An Echo; Its presence confessed

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Author's Comments
Note: All that blooms need care. Never have I seen a bud blossom with beauty if, not love, but trust & confidence in its abilities is not promoted. In life, I have but seen people who trust or doubt others, forgetting to first impose this rule on themselves & their own abilities & worth. Emphasis on love & forgetting about care is what I believe to be the flaw. There would be no need for a father & a mother if both provided the same thing. The night & day share time half-way because otherwise all that lives on this poor Earth may end up with burns or frozen by the darkness of what surrounds. An Ego will always find a way to speak, but at times, it must be laid to rest. If morning & night were the same or that they fought for grandeur, we would not know of a day. In my life, what I give is not as much love as care & not as much friendship as trust/confidence. What's the difference? Nothing! It’s the same person, the same voice, the same words but trust/confidence promotes resonance of every capability &potential to confess their presence without questioning or doubting their worth. There’s always someone better & always someone worse; listen to the silent whispers of the conscience that lies somewhere, it alone permits every echo to rest. Lightening & thunder to show of light & sound; one without the other leads to neither being at their best.

Submitted: August 12, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 12, 2009



An Echo; Its presence confessed
By Kalyani Rajalingham

As its First Breath allotted at birth
Was woe to the wretched on Earth
‘Twas left behind as a silent whisper
As welfare to a warm heart’s painful prayer
Grasping for air; ‘twas deaf to all but one ear
And toil to prodigy’s lovely heirs

For it never was and never will be
But the dust that fell from the monarch’s fleet
That learned to while with joy while it may, here & there
Returning, renewing all, as it hastens away
As thunder sounded reality’s cold truth
The thought that it belongs lingers no longer,
As but the remnants of a silent murmur

Blending with Nature, for every bud blooms with but care
The echo is but a hope, a trust in another self from head to toe
Foe or Friend, each voice’s mirror is still a whisper,
Though deaf be the ear that fashioned heart & mind for Fate to bear
‘Tis the Bearer of Confidence until silence sets it asunder

Walking, Singing of lightening, of thunder
Will sound to the sullen sea or the willing hour
Of conscience’s first breath that was not permitted to linger
And therefore, the echo; its presence confessed
Signing all that it may; still falters,
With nothing; indeed at its best

An Echo; Its presence confessed
As a bloom of Nature,
That Lives in the signature of her tears

© Kalyani Rajalingham

© Copyright 2018 Kalyani Rajalingham. All rights reserved.

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