Trail of the Sky

The sky is pale blue, with golden rays
streaking past, interspersed with pink clouds
that signify the approach of dawn-
which is a sight too early
to be appreciated by people ensnared
in the world of dreams

The pink dissipates, the sun rises higher,
growing light from golden yellow
Less ethereal, more earthly,
the clouds regain their original pallor
of white against azure
But a remnant of the moon, an almost intangible sliver
hovers in the sky
although hopelessly overshadowed
by the sun

The rays of the golden orb, once gentle
increase in their intensity,
as the sun resumes its stately, arched path
A blinding white, much too glaring
for people to bask in the reflected beauty
of the clouds, of the water
when they seem to echo the shades of the sky

The sun grows weaker, less dominant
as it withdraws its rays of dazzling light,
making way for the lesser celestial objects
miles and miles and miles away
Slashed with orange, darkened clouds,
the sky seems to smile as it boasts its beauty
From a line of soft gold of the horizon, to orange
to blue, to the endless violet
that extends up to the heavens

Against the backdrop of midnight blue,
the moon shines freely, free from the tyranny
of the sun
Sprinkled with stars that glow faintly,
the sky emanates an aura of serenity
that encourages us to close our eyes
and awaken to the harmony of dawn

Petrichor

She looked dismally at the darkened skies
that loomed over her
and poured rain in relentless sheets,
drowning everything around her
until she could see nothing but water,
as she peered out her misty window
and absorbed the dreary, unwelcoming scene
with unhappy eyes

The clouds hung lower, expelling the light,
suffocating her,
ensnaring her in the trap of darkness-
devoid of beauty or radiance,
until she could bear it no more
She curled up, as she waited for the rains to calm,
for the dissonant sounds of the crashing drops to appease,
for the wall of darkness to evaporate
so that she could breath freely again, in a world
unhindered by the chains of a vehement deluge

                                        *                                    *                                    *

Golden cascaded from the heavens
in a shower of sparkles
that carved their way across the sky,
reaching the eyes of the earthlings,
throwing light on the verdant trees,
on the broken branches, severed twigs
too weak to withstand nature's wrath
She stepped out of her home carefully, rather warily,
inhaled deeply
and beamed

It was lovely... disarmingly persuasive
as it lured her down the steps, to the grass,
beckoning her forward, to bask
in one the gifts that is bestowed upon the earth
after a downpour that follows unbearable heat
Breathing in the scent of the bygone rain,
of the indefinable, strangely abstract
fragrance that lingered around her,
clinging to her like an ethereal spirit
as she walked under the canopy of trees
Looking up at the sky,
the benign, innocent, cerulean sky,
she dallied about, careful not to miss
the magical scent emanating from the ground,
from the grass, from the trees-
the petrichor

Artificiality

Published in Canvas Literary Journal


A made-up countenance, blooming with the hues
of artificiality, of vivid colors
that appeared unnaturally bright,
accentuating features, brightening shades
that never existed

She erected boundaries around her mind,
to shield herself from the dangers
of criticism, of the perils
that accompany an endless list,
a growing list of insecurities

Pale, sparkling cheekbones,
beautifully defined eyes and lashes,
A ruby red pair of lips,
wielding an insincere smile-
her defenses against the arrows
that pierce her confidence, her will, and her faith
in humanity
She effortlessly brandished-
a shallow laugh, feigned words of praise,
hollow demonstrations of friendship
thereby symbolizing the insincerity
of what surrounded her

A splash of cold water- fresh and invigorating...
she felt her face revert to its natural color
A sparkling stream cut down her face
as she rid herself of the pretensions she waved
every hour of the day,
every day of the year,
every year of her life

She looked at herself for the first time-
at a natural blue, rather than glowing sapphire,
at a pale pink, rather than violent magenta
at a soft peach, rather than vivid orange
She saw herself for what she was,
and the beauty that she possessed
that existed free of the shackles of artificiality

Truly satisfied for the first time,
she took a step back
and allowed herself a smile