Heaven's Tapestry

For ages i haven't picked up a brush,

nor held the palette in my hand.

Now I just spend hours watching

the colors of the sky, the sea and the rains.

I read their language, store the images.

It's the archetypal language of memory.

A lake deep in the shadows,

the haven of geese,

is an exquisite blending of green and blue

where the grey is subdued

as if in delight.

Yellow is the colour of sunshine summer,

a blending of blue and yellow,

with just a dot of red to relieve monotony and the tyranny of green.

Moonlit nights are the marvels of purple and mauve,

hiding in mystical absence

the presence of the departing red and blue.

Colours have sounds and sounds colours,

an intermingling of senses for human birth.

Shadows breathe and vibrate colours,

ripples a rhythm, and the opaque sand will hum in the dark.

Wings have a tremor when they flap, a nervousness not known to bees.

We are born with a rich ancestry,

eternity glancing at each of its shadows.

And through each shadow emerges

a tapestry, a tapestry of heaven,

each sunset, moonrise and the ripple in a shadow, hides an intimacy of a deep surprise

of finding it all in the tapestry: a stitch, a hemming, a weave and a fold, all in place and a place for all.

Sushama Karnik.

All reactions:

15Arif Sayed, Françoise Dhulesia and 13 others

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Hamid Ben

Wonderful fresco high in color, thank you dear Sushama

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Sushama Karnik

Hamid Ben Thanks.

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Françoise Dhulesia

You need no brushes to weave the tapestry of Heaven. Your senses, alert to the tiniest nuances, write the story of colours. Each word of yours is a "ripple", spreading its water colour on the canvas of your life. And you blend emotions on your palette.

You need no brushes to paint your world.

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Sushama Karnik

Françoise Dhulesia Your comment reads like a poem in itself. Thank you Francoise.

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Françoise Dhulesia

Sushama Karnik corrected the missing s to yours!