Thoughts on a Train
(written March 9, 2012 with my feet hanging off the side of a train in the mountains from Kandy to Ella, Sri Lanka--inspired by the scenery and the Sri Lankan flag)
Verdant hills, the richest hue
Mountain streams their paths askew,
High above with currents flowing
Crisp and cool as fair winds blowing
Breezes whisper tales of orange and red,
Of war and passion and blood drops shed,
Ancient kingdoms brought to life
Through hidden secrets, through dreams at night
As stars, they guide through pasts untold
Til dawn gently warms you with tales of gold
Of riches vast and pride unwav'ring
With cinnamon air and spice savoring
Rays of sun, lighting paths unseen
Weaving then and now into tales of green
Of peace and hope from hands that toil
Rising fresh, renewed from fertile soil
From the fragrant plains to the salty beach
To the tallest points where clouds find peace,
One feels it beat as waves onshore
The pulse of the land, like a lion's roar
Ballad of Unawatuna
(written March 12, 2012 to the beat of the waves at sunset on Unawatuna Beach, Sri Lanka)
The top of the world
Or so it seems
A place for clarity,
For endless dreams
But as clouds roll in
I want to scream
To yell and shout
Yet remain unseen
The outside bright,
amused, complete
The inside fight,
confused, defeat
Beware the cracks
A secret leaked
A mask removed
A facade replete
Held tight by one,
A soft embrace
A gentle touch
A delicate lace
Still another pulls
But it's hard to place
From where the passion burns
When face to face
The first the life
You want to lead
The second, forbidden
Yet what you need
So which is the garden
To plant the seed
Do you grow what's real
Or what's make believe?
Yet who's to say
What's real or fake
Sometimes wrong feels right
And right, mistake
All's fair in love
The give and take
But it feels like war
When the heart's at stake
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