Abstract

There were no instructions
And everything had a glitter
With nothing in between

Even for the mind
There was no concept
Nothing to break off
From the rhythm
Of nature's
Self-potrait

There was no suffering
Of a thousand years
And the mountains were stupid
With hands
In the sky

There were no rules
Of proportion and
We were born
In the middle
Of grey

In the middle of howls
The happy blood stained gesture
There was no
Relationship with being
And non-being

We killed until
Ethics was an abstract
Form of tool
And language built a house
For lonliness

This was long ago
When something came
To dance
And we were
Its feathers

-Nirmohi