Transformation
by Abel Johnson Thundil
By Abel Johnson ThundilPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read
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Photo by Ricardas Brogys on Unsplash
The lights come on,
The Violins play,
And I see her spin
Like a dry leaf coming down in the wind.
I'm scared...
But know that the tree is tall enough,
I know that another wind would blow
And let her spin further
Before she hits the ground.
Red ribbons in both hands;
Opening like a rose
Kissed by a dew,
Embraced by the warm sun;
Flourishing...
The lights change
And yet she goes on;
Her body like clay on the wheel
Gently being shaped into a mythical figure;
A warrior,
An empress with a torch.
The lights come on,
The Violins play,
And I see her spin
Like a dry leaf coming down in the wind.
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