Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The stranger



I sit under the tree
Listening to the whispers
Of the wind
And rattle of the leaves,
Staring non-stop
At the shadow
Of the stranger
That glides lengthily
As the golden sun usurp the evening.
From the illusion of my mind
The stranger appears familiar
Basking in the golden light
He projects a smile mysterious.
Everything hued with golden shine
And I smiled within
Knowing the stranger
Is, none other but the illusive me,
The part remain hidden,
Yet to be awakened.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 130110.







7 comments:

  1. Very good-a surprise ending! And aren't we all strangers even to ourselves, just waiting to discover who we really are?

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  2. wow so intriguing! Very well written.

    Keshi.

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  3. Very good, I like this poem.

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  4. Very nice, Cyclops :)

    i know myself to a single cell, i feel...the journey into awakening was tough and when i was too young to take it...but you seem mature enough to take it with a smile :)

    wishes,
    devika

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  5. Oh yes, forgot...happy to see you back posting :)

    wishes,
    devika

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  6. Nicely written..

    lovely poetry,i mus say!

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