The Sun devoured horizons as celestials tuned out;
It woke flowers from ritual slumber
And beasts from blindness,

Glittering streams in meadows conversed with knolls
Multitudes of forests abreast,

With elf-like whimsicality
Billowing clouds commenced a tango,
The breeze ducked and hurdled rocks and shrubs
In search of another landscape,

It reeked of otherworldliness
And still, no one thought it was Paradise.


One comment

  1. Humayun Mazhar · December 16, 2015



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