Soft Cry In The Mist



At Johor Strait when I exit from Singapore to Malaysia.

at gray water
The waves moved side way
while rain fell
on the opposite side
Sun hid its light
and retreating
Every morning I sat at the car park
While the lighthouse been shut
and the pelicans and the waves and the rain
accompanied my exile
word dies 
Only silence
and nothing stay
Inside my heart;
I sprayed a painting
Thousand years ago;
Like —
I was there
People holding stick and stone
and the mammoth knelled bleeding unremembered
Until humanity stopped going to caves and burrows
Never looked for new land
and ships moored
For so long in the harbour. Rivers
Turned shallow
And wasted. The bird
Peeping keenly
From the air
down to warm water
Like a knife
Plunged deep
into the heart
A moment
Sea opened apart
The beak
A fish
The wing slowly flapped
A soft cry in the mist.


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