True Colours of The Great Canvas

The Great Canvas

One day, while gazing at the fading evening sky I got lost in the colour; the truest of red hues were shining on the clouds above. I kept staring, I kept wondering, and I soaked it in its entirety. The sky was the canvas my lord was playing with and I was with him, atop a four floor building under construction. Somehow, something was settling down in me, just like the dust after rain; I was a bit more calm and a lot more at peace, staring at the crimson lining of clouds parading above.

Sometimes, the clouds grouped together in the darkest shades of grey and the deepest hues of reds, and it felt like the storm that was brewing inside me. Sometimes, they just went sparse and it felt like the emptiness in my heart. Sometimes, they painted a portrait of my lost love, smiling back at me in a surreal reality. Sometimes I saw birds flying by those flocks of clouds, fluttering here and there; to my eyes they twinkled like the stars of the daytime.

It was unbelievably true and yet I was wondering if it was real; was this a mere illusion of reflections bouncing back from those shady clouds? Was I simply seeing a reflection of my own inner emotions in the riot above? Were those hues of red dying into darkness, a mere display of my own emotions bedded on the sorrows of past? Was this some trick being played by my eyes, my mind, my lord? Were they all trying to show me the beauty in my sorrow which I had failed to fathom yet? Ah! This dilemma and this trance, a part of me was enamoured by the great canvas up above, and a part of me was stemming it with my mere mortal emotions here on earth.

The Guardian of the Night Sky is rising

Time had drifted gently in my morbid slumber, a million floaters had gone through my eyes finding a place high up in that great canvas. A little mynah sprung by my side with a delicate chirp and ended my trance. I looked up again, the clouds had drifted aside in the discipline of a canvas border, through which I could see the pale colourless sky. The sun was bidding goodbye, drowning in its glittery pool, and the moon was rising above like a bright crystal. The sky was witnessing a change of its guardians, and this humble soul was its obedient audience.

“Did I see my lord’s marvel of the play of his shining disciples,
or was it just my inner emotions spilling out on that great canvas?,
This I might never know,
but the tranquility I witnessed,
is the magic to which I’ll forever bow…”