Saffron.
Won't you blaze with sun's fervour while
An endless dusk sleeps on ?
Won't you dawn on us,
A wildfire's vigour ?
Won't you ignite flames where,
These black ashes bridge soil and sky ?
Won't you lend your hue bright to
These greige drops dormant in vessels
Blanching under this persistent weather ?
Won't you?
White.
Won't you emerge from us like a lotus
Springing over secluded muddy drains ?
Won't you bath our midnight shadows
With moon's soporific everglow ?
Won't you settle on us like cotton wisps tuck in
The storm after an exhausting battle ?
Won't you wash all our hues away,
Such that we see you clear
As milk floats irises of all tints ?
Won't you ?
Green.
Won't you bear us a spring,
Ending autumn years weeping rust ?
Won't you bless this sterile clay
That bricks and pots hold,
With youthful vibrance of vines ?
Won't you flourish even in winters,
Like coniferous pine trees
Priding themselves over steep hills ?
Won't you nurture our barren slates
When you let even deserts bloom ?
Won't you ?
The Blue Wheel
Won't you shelter us like azure,
The lost birds seek for in troubling sights ?
Won't you pacify us like oceans
That lull ragged breaths of waves to sleep ?
Won't you prevail on us,
Sharpen the dull edges
And let the rectitude draw our maps,
So we pilgrims will carry
Lighter baggages on them shoulders ?
Won't you spin for us, rob us our inertia ?
Won't you push us, our pendulums hanging
Still, while history holds it's breath ?
Won't you ?
Won't you begin ?
Won't you soar ?
YOU ARE READING
Handwritten
Poetry"Sometimes I wonder If this is how it's supposed to be Can I make a choice ? Or is it all meant to be?"...
