I see the underbellies of birds, dark and undistinguishable feathers below the bursting but blue clouds.
The sky is without sunlight, the colour wrapping it is like the old womb of industry, revolutionary but past, the iron furnaces are gone. The air is untainted and silent. There is no chill or heat, neither fire nor ash. Only unwavering pleasant swirls of gusty drafts, painting the motions of a storm but never reaching one.
Tag: Sky
City orange
In the city I saw stars, and
A clear night with no orange tint
-So strange.
Black and white
Winter clouds
Colour the sky grey.
With the sun hidden away
There’s no better time
To look at dusty photos,
A time long away
When the sky
Feels the same.
Merely Human
I see the morning fog and know I breathe it,
I hear the nesting parakeet and know I’ve seen it,
After the dew runs down the warmth of my hand,
When the black gate reminds me of the taste of metal,
I remember,
that I am morning
I see the orange tinge of city night, knowing darkness
While people fan themselves, the heat of the night air
When I smell the yearning in the cities cauldron
My soul the fish under the unbroken surface
never a tranquil moment
I know,
I am not merely human
The Blue Sky
It was a blue sky that on that day I spied
not a cloud above the skyline in sight,
no matter how hard I may have tried,
not revealed even a single streak of white.
Across the horizon only blue and light
like the jagged dream of an empty night.
Upon us bore, foolishly dreaded my mind,
in the form of lifeless sky- the end of mankind.
Borne on silent wind swayed a branch
and I soon awoken from the trance
thought to myself about the perfect trait
of that background of the trees’ portrait.
Under The Night Sky
The crescent on unlighted night,
can your hear overhead, alight
the rumble of infinity?
Rijul Ballal 