The Horizon is only a Mirage

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The doves of peace circle overhead. Someone knocks at the door of opportunity. The vagaries of life confuse and befuddle people. A lonesome thought seeks company.

On the periphery of expectation, a long queue waits. The sun is like a giant orb of ice. When moments have time, we are busy and when we have time, moments are busy. The wall in front of me is more expressive today.

Sometimes abstractedness appeals to us while sometimes we become abstract. When nature is in its elements, then even the dry twigs sing and dance.

There is a miraculous power within us that we have forgotten about. The horizon is only a mirage. We set our own boundaries; some of us limit ourselves, some go beyond the limitless.

Nowhere is also somewhere but we focus only on the 'no' and not on the 'where'. Whichever way we look at the sky, it always appears vast. A strange bird pecks in my veranda. It is as colorful as the rainbow in my heart.

The other birds watch it in complete fascination and then in an unusual turn of events, they gather around it and drive it away.

The wall assumes a more animated expression.