A Beautiful Day

Over head, the blue is radiant
Day is light.
Clear skies reflect transparent waters
A Good day.

Over head, the few clouds color nacreous apparitions in the blue.
Visages of well being are carried, ephemeral.
Chimera, chimera, chimera.
A fine day.

Over head attributes of man bring silent portents, luminescent.
The Indus reflects another day not yet seen in these parts.
Its banks silt murky tides from both sides.
No nepanthe these reflections bring.

Over head the wafture of clouds do not tell yet of Himalayan winds.
What weather they will bring the day after tomorrow when the neap tides give way to more roiling exchange.

Over head those ancient winds still circulate bringing tides of civilization. The Bay of Bengal is not the only mother of the storm, whose tempest winds may sweep across the land,
perhaps scoured one fine day by the essence of a sun not in nature’s caldron maintained.
Nature’s harmony did, by will, unbend in that maternal triangle of river origin, spawning eddies,
more tenebrous near Babylon’s gardens’ wash, precarious in the Arab Sea.

Over head that fateful eastern wind
settles a raucous score,
a vindication deemed,
a fusil panoply for
an inane covenant
not
of
Abraham’s corban.

Over head, one fine day, blue skies may
convey what heavy waters can no longer contain
invisibly
reversibly
in vainglorious array
the primordial matter of a,b,c

gamma

beta

alpha

.

-- a.c.samuels
29 May, 1998