Thursday, January 03, 2013

The painted wall

In the beginning
there was open space
open air and clear eyes

Then the mud formed the bricks
the bricks stacked
first in front
then on all sides

Vision blurred
Ugly walls needed cover
an idea called paint was born

The muddy bricks, hid
only the bright colors, lit
The imagination was happy

She worked hard
toiled day and night
held the family threads tight

He was overboard
pointing mistakes, galore
The lights are not off
The remote is on sofa
The tap is leaking
and faking colors
as his protectors

I am white and spotless
proclaimed he.
You are tainted and unclean
I am sensitive and sensible
You just live in your own world
endless tirade , went on for a while

Until the head banged the wall
removed the paint and exposed the wall
the bricks were his and
were hardened stone
He paused and gained insight

Into the world of walls
that he had built
separated and aloof
cornered and tensed
his nerves convulsed
searching for the Master
He gained some strength

Some bricks fall by
Some need divine intervention

He learnt to wait
for patience has a goal

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