SunriseI remember who I am.
And every time I see grief
I’m reminded of poetry
of the ocean, lying in peace,
smooth and blue.

I am keen to stay here,
like endless lines of love poem,
like a discovery,
like a waterfall
that hurts the rocks,
like the first hint of sunrise,
ephemeral yet timeless.

Whoever I am, I am alive,
I pay attention,
I get astonished,
and I freeze my story
in a glass house.


Author: Archita

Musings about life and photography.

6 thoughts on “Keen”

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