Cries of thousand crickets and single soul,
The island harks them all in a rhythm
Of their own. The obscure bell at temple
Fogged by the past of light and bowing heads,
Suddenly rings in a gush of drear wind.
Water moves in and out it goes bearing
The feet-marks of a lost play on the sand.
Where are they at this moment of tide? Now?
Back to a pent house? Moving through the path
Traveled by the others likewise? Nowhere?
None is there, so a miracle happens...


Comments: 17
Blessings ~
Rene
Water moves in and out it goes bearing
The feet-marks of a lost play on the sand.
Point Karma : Thanks, gave you a 10! Have a great night!
"Cries of thousand crickets and single soul"