Thursday, December 13, 2012
The light grew less in his eyes
We hear a body's fall steeped in a melody
With exquisite sound gone from its fingers.
The eyes fell of broken strings , their music
Lost in the winter of its time, in its nightfall.
The glass spread quickly in its stringing eyes.
The big black eyes were strung to a fine song,
The song of a lifetime, the flow of a generation.
The sound is now ashes, the eyes just beads.
(Remembering the big black eyes of music maestro Ravi Shankar who passed this week-)
Posted at 05:04 pm by adukuri