when that bell boomed its hollow ancient call I heard it as a song- moving through valleys and hills harmonizing the touch of wind on my skin.
it felt more than what it used to feel. I visualized how the clouds presented themselves- heavy on my head.
the rain, I accepted as company for me. unfortunate drops free of colour, their hues are no offering of ink to me -in that moment I dreamt of writing puddling poetries on paper boats.
between those monotone shades a caged bird sang of freedom, and we flew together.
the breeze of north wind carried us high while society spoke of boring norms.
soaring open and free deeper into knowledge and will.
a masterpiece with ripped edges.
where myself and that bird have fallen many times.
