Give it up indulgent Sun, you've parched the land aplenty. The mountains beyond pull their misty curtains tight and a million greens dance in glee. You've been harsh but Mercy's time has come. Retreat. Desist. You're undone. Hear the Thunder roll - heed its word. Even Lightning streaks its say. The Clouds have broken their pregnant pause... how long would you bind them away? Ah! The joy of sun-kissed trees, that flash of gold in grey when the clouds part just to let you in so your presence still holds sway... If only you knew your place in time your glory could still reign. Alas! You lost your plot today - Depart. Stay sublime. The mountains crave a drink of life. Begone and let them be. The rain is come and the land is numb... in relief, in respite and peace. It's kept its promise to its lot. It's kept the Earth here green. The Sky will testify to your ills, the Winds will heave a sigh. No thanks to you, the soil will sing
A pantomime to the tunes of our frenetic everyday, Kallola is dedicated to the urban mind. It is a commentary and observation of society, of culture, of tradition... of suggestion and hope. Because when time overtakes time, as it is wont to do, we realise that the rules are always the same - we just play our strokes differently. © 2008-2021 tejuthy.blogspot.com Any part of this blog when shared, copied or referred to in any format, must bear due credit to tejuthy.blogspot.com