Saturday, August 4, 2007

Mute Hills

Poignant eyes shadow
The vagrant clouds
Adrift amongst
The latitudes of snow
In search of repose….
The uphill inclines
The distant hamlets
Silent deodars
Seduced of beauty
Perceive the dull notes
Of the sound of silence
In their quest
Of that tranquil vale….
The pendulous cones
Quaking in the frost
Awaits their fate
In the quagmire
Of the mushy earth
The grey of the suspended mist
Stains me in
The color of your absence

4 comments:

illusions said...

Wow! I loved this poem...can I call it my own? Please...

I honestly love your peotry...keep writing darling we are all waiting for the next one. Can't get enough.

Ignorance Re-visited said...

I never knew that absence has a colour of its own.

If grey is the abscence colour, what is the colour of presence??? Perhap none as..........
Who would notice surroundings in such details when you are around? I could hardly notice when sun gives way to the moon, when u r around.

Great poem.

Mriganka (Micky) Kalita said...

So haunting...so utterly haunting...

ironic said...

you all have been way too kind.
illusions: prags i can understand you. genetically you are sweet and have always been towards me.
musafir: micks, told you to be abject na.
ignorance: z/t, well thanks for the vote but thats not the basis of our relationship darling. we get off on being feral. get your claws out and dont hide under the camoflauge of niceties. :))