Lines of Eternity

She squinted down at fingers, gnarled and swollen, the colour of watery indigo from the lake where withered rainbows go to die. For years a metallic silence had grown like a brown fungus inside her eyes, crawling down her throat and burying her voice deep under the whispering roots of the far mango tree.

And yet this morning words covered her hands, like fresh green paste of henna leaves, smelling of falling rivers and filled with the light that moved in sheaths over waving mustard fields. She stood on the bed, and began to write on white walls, walls that turned for her, one by one, like empty pages being read by a hungry wind.

from shrivelled palms
lines of eternity
drip down slowly


40 thoughts on “Lines of Eternity

  1. Just looking at a face worn with age telling stories of times unknown the reader feels to the depth of emotions created in this beautiful writing.


  2. I love how you combine poem and is like a distillation..making your ideas so much clearer and certain..wherever we choose to write..on walls or paper I believe words can be our eternal friend…

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  3. Gorgeous lush images “withered rainbows” and standing on a bed writing on the walls that turned for her…” Yes gorgeous…wet and wonderful.


  4. your images at fresh and quite challenging;

    “watery indigo from the lake where withered rainbows go to die” this is just amazing

    Totally an awesome haibun
    Have a nice Sunday

    much love…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. So very much to like and enjoy in this. ….watery indigo from the lake where withered rainbows go to die…. I think of the old woman, the withered rainbow…such a metaphorical joining in this line.

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