The Sky

The sphere of nothingness Hides the bereaved earth Drops of tear fall like stars On its determined path Acicular edges sewn together To gather colors and riches Surly clouds weave magic Littering formless sketches Bright days and dark nights Dappled dawn and bloody dusk Places the thunder on its lap The ancient seed is the biggest crux Penitential soul crowd cold Peaks with blue canopy overhead Across transparent canvass Every moment a new form is laid Copy right @Anil Kumar Panda 09/11/2015