There’s something being cooked,
There’s something in brewing.
Throwing away the torn,
There’s no more to sewing.
It’s time to step out,
The wind’s fast sweeping.
The wound’s drying up,
There’s no more to healing.
The eyes all done dripping,
To the clouds delegating.
The summer’s passing by,
The monsoon in the making.
Ploughing the fields of my heart,
I hear the sound of it beating.
A tiny little trail of blossoms,
Soon, soon I set to reaping.

One thought on “Resurrection

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s