How can I paint spirituality and beauty?
Dr Abe V Rotor
In a thousand thoughts that blend
What they dream and what they hope.
Suddenly the world became still.
Gone is the lark in the sky and raven on the sill
Orphaned from the river high;
Wouldn’t Heaven rather send a sigh,
Than somewhere the young ones cry?
I know now why there
is a magic carpet that flies,
For I am witness to a boat
filled with children
In make-believe flotilla
filling the seas,
Calling each other, brother,
in joyful peace,
The bamboo I cut is not really mine,
This giant grass, a reed sublime;
In the wind it rings a sweet old chime,
Into a song sans words and rhyme.
If termites live on dead wood
Where do they get their food?
Ah, from roots - dead roots of the tree I pruned.
That bathes under the sun to its edge.
Go to the sea and learn its chore.
Keen are our senses at the bend
Keener they are at the end.
Acknowledgement: Internet photos