Twilight Ripples

The cheerful chirping of the gaily birds
And the innocent laughter of the guileless children
Have faded with the retreating rays,
Of the impartial morning guide.

The seething fury of the fiery volcano
Has subsided for a reason unknown
And the lashing waves, even the bubbling froth,
Are now still, perhaps in introspection,
Of its seemingly uneventful existence.

The resonating chants from the ‘holy’ mouths
Are now eternally lost to the cleansing winds.

Even the faint rustle of the leaves and grasses,
Has died down, probably in submission,
To the soothing calm of this enigmatic evening….

But even the embalming silence of the tranquil evening fails to quell
The resonating ripples of my orphaned senses...