Which part of time

Controls the time

Of a bird's flight?

Casting point shadows

Against the light's might.

The sky is something more than a canvas,

For the twinkly stars to twinkle,

Shiny moons to shine

And the sun to wrinkle.

It is the truth like the wind,

That travels till infinity,

In between fall necessary obstacles,

Thirst, hunger, reason and curiosity.

Unaware of the shadows of death,

Unable to distinguish the hills from the trees,

Towards the line between dreamy and real breath,

The bird flies along the breeze.

It's innocence ( Some say stupidity)

Makes me realise,

I am Human,

For the better or worse.

~Ajay

April 2017