In level with my eyes

Months away from June,
I saw a copper moon,
It pinned the sky in place
To a misty celestial lace

It was round and blurred and strong
And didn't stay too long,
And while its luminous work got done
It reminded me of the sun

Two stridents of space
Floating high and free,
Two lofty poets in thought
That shine with gallantry

And while I contemplate both
In silence and with fervor,
One is easily praised
For the other, one must endeavour

One coaxes a song
From hesitant, shy lips,
One forces an anthem
As it resolutely slips

For one, 'tis enough
The tints and hints and sheen,
For the other, 'tis a must
To have a grand requiem

One understands the traces
Of the final moment that drags,
To salute the end of the other
We proudly raise our flags




Note: The photograph of prayer flags in Sikkim was sent to me by K, a friend. On receiving supreme compliments for it, she graciously passed on the credit to her husband.

The unseen photograph of the copper moon was shown to me by J. Typically, her words were, 'Go and look up at the sky.'

Thank you, both.