Sun rise on the
golf-course rock
Decades get deposited
on that craggy face, each time-line carved roughly by the passing Time, on this
golf course, Lismore, NSW, Australia,
in a relentless
writing frenzy, those serried formations thereon.
You are solid piece of
natural art, kind
of installation done
by a city-based sculptor in a museum-garden in New York, then left in a hurry,
there, as a gift for a bewildered public!
This morning is
s-o different!
An artist walks into
the
area---he, being a new
entrant in the city and neighbourhood, this sturdy man with the carving hands
of a sculptor---and spots the myriad colours of nature,
in that wooded spot,
full of nocturnal
spirits, encountered earlier in a Grecian grove
in a past, now mired
in a forever-fog.
The eyes greet the
rising sun with a knowing smile; the light brings in the
cheer to the quiet
corner, yet
to be fully awake to
the lusty players. The solitude-seeker, on his walk here,
enjoys the rainbow
hues, being splashed around
by a baby sun, in a
frolicking mood
the trees dance in the
breeze; the pale-white rays
about to kiss the
brown-red-black rock.
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