Music:
Words manifest in lucidity.
Thoughts as transient as afternoon shadows.
Energy as charged as smoke's winnowing path.
Solidity; as framed as wrought.
Eyes as cloudy as morning fog rising in the winter sunshine
Weak, misty risen from the crops of mustard
Emanating the winter morning coolth;
The moist, freshly cut green scent of the pastoral life.
If only this was the grace of all;
To be shared, to be ruminated over; to be the truth!
And yet, this obscurity re-defined eloquently by the
Queen of Words
Arundhati Roy.
My intelligent-lover.
“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget.”
― Arundhati Roy
I can say no more; this can not be outdone.
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