Sunday, June 8, 2014

Golden Oscar

Dr Abe V Rotor
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[Living with Nature][naturalism - the eighth sense] 



Love those Oscars, fish given away at token;
they're albinos, they were leftovers:
devoid of contrast, the black color of narcissus,
orphans I said and took them home.

They are twelve, outcasts wandering for so  long,
but no longer in my glass aquarium;    
where the view of the garden is less than prison,
and I, their master, guardian, friend.

And I let the sun in, in the morning until noon,
then the sun peeps in rainbow's prism
and cast over them, over their scales and fins,  
day in and out, 'til a transformation came.

gone were their dull and pale colors as they bask
in light. Aren't they albinos? I asked
and I researched further, if someone is wrong -
there is a big mistake, but whose?    

L'l do we know the science to which we belong;
least of the unknown, the mysterious.
blaming the Creator, he too, commits mistake
to conceal our innocence and ignorance.   

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