A beauty of a scene gleaming through the sky
With dozens of scattered and clumped greyish gold
Setting was the sun, but suppose the last try
To keep alive the all day long goodness hold.
The colours merged; better than an artist’s work –
But who the artist? Who the brush? All lost here.
Followed the greyish invasion… path of the dark
As the process continued, advanced my fear.
But still the prevailing good, the influence,
Must have excited a hundred poets or so!
I wished the powerful Time would wait its race
But who am i indeed to challenge its flow?
There my unfulfilled desire longing for more
On the other hand, the hidden message gone
Lost in a moment, short lived was my pleasure
Yet must hold the hope, one day it will return…
—
By Swetansu Mohapatra (Sep 2004)