A Sense of Yearning

The rekindling of life under the cerulean sky; The redolence of love, and everything beyond; O Mother! Your art is unparalleled! Like precious little dreams the islands swim Against the weary tides of time And put bards and painters to shame; Such beauty, Mother, such beauty! As dusk drapes it wings around us all, The beach glows with memories and footprints. The homing birds against the hued sky Look like the flawless painting of a child; And that’s when, Mother, do I hear The tranquil sound of silence. The army of corals stand together to hold The Empire on their shoulders; Tell me How did you make an army so patient, So colourful, so mesmerising, so diverse? Do we even have the ears to listen to them? Like fragments of a beautiful story never written I see your art, Mother, Carry a rather light burden of life. This is where I had always dreamt Of having my first kiss with the sun. This is where I had always planned To fall in love. O Mother, how did you