a poerty concerning nature very much,we can feel it deep down. |
The sky sings a song, so simple but so complecated sometimes i feel i just dont get it,no! The sky,it sings in morning,in the evning,during the busy hot days and in the soft cold starry nights But can we hear her sing? I hear her sing all the time on a windy sunny day, in a crimson purple evening when the lights seem to melt away with the sun. In a cold starry night when the breeze feels a bit warm close to our hearts,it inspires me to write a song and to sing it all. the tree tops sway with the wind and it sings a song ,the moonlight touches the darkish green leaves of the lonely trees and sings a song. At times i feel the song in my blood and i get myself a pen and a paper , i sit silent and open like the sky. Words after words,lines after lines are now there ,lied in the paper,they all sing a song when u read it,all my pages i hold in my hands,At the rooftop in my home now the wind is strong,i fly the pages ,they fly to my colours ,to the senses,it feels its the flight of the freedom it flies to the endless blue of the sky graspes the vivid purple all in it and after the nights rain its still there. In the morning the pages tell stories to all the people,a different story for all, everyone listens to the song,There the sky sings a song for each and everyone,now you can hear the sky sing!the sky wrote its own song through me and reached all of u. What a wonderful idea!i wishper at the wind now when u read it all u know the sky sings,everyday. |