CHEF-D’OEUVRE
Thankfully there remains a leaf that of hope
At the edgy cliff of that preceptious fate
A tree there spreads its green branches,
Shelters a dream beneath the roots
Whispers a secret to earth in subtle ways
From the thick mystic winter of a day
There sings a bird in praise of a heaven
In silence a lamp that brightens a prayer room
Horizon all set to thank a new born day
Shedding the last speckle of a frightening night
Strange the thoughts and images imprecise
Tired, a soul inhales a frozen season
Between the sloppy pathways of destiny
Hope, the last ivy leaf painted for life
Thankfully the masterpiece- ‘chef-d’oeuvre
An artists reverie, in hues that of breath and bruise
A magnum opus, indeed
Providentially
By Rema Pisharody
