Veils

ExileTo imagine my shoes as dusty hills, and the lino as an arable vale, is to see myself in this bare land as an exile from screaming bloodshed.Exile
I glimpse outside, that the birds aren’t shoaling into globules but darting willy-nilly; making the sky look as untidy
as a child’s bedroom.
There are gum stains on the floor and as I blink, the fields dissolve and these stains drift and shimmer as leaves floating on a glassy river.
A voice fishes me from reverie – she soothes: 'Mr Evans? Congratulations. It’s a boy.'
--
A storm is rising.
and welcome...
i hope you will enjoy this crazy but nice place...
have some fun...
--
ॐ मणि पद्मे हूँ, oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ
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