Sunday, August 31, 2014

In quest of Light on the land of Sleeping Sun !

Connecting Histories giving birth to the inhibitions. You drift apart and get soaked in your own pieces, drop by drop. Life is crawling through the melting dusky self and you are flying through the life. As if the sky has come down and the earth is hanging, up there beyond your reach. As if confusions are laughing at faded clarity and silence is dancing on words. You suddenly start swimming in the air and keep inhaling the water. You are not the same, you are not supposed to be the same. You are sitting behind the Church, counting the stars and drinking the moon, on the stairs like insane. 

You remain full of emptiness. Murmuring dry leaves on the green grass are getting eager to get wrapped around your cold feet. You ignore them and they ignore your preference. Everything is floating in its own pace arrogantly with no desire to control or hold. And that soft touch of dew drops burns your presence into absence. Still you exist to witness yourself merging into fumes of liberty. You see your own ashes encircling your existence and you smile at them for they are getting lost in the utter darkness while searching light on the land of sleeping Sun.  

Archana Sharma

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