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| Courtesy : sykescottages.co.uk |
At the mountain
top the twilight was fading and the west is eating the sun. There were a group
of people in the open space with the bonfire starting in the middle. The cool air was freezing their blood which
pushed them to the pyre that was burning the green of the earth under. The burning logs were trying to keep the
engulfing darkness at a distance with its yellow gate of heat and effulgence.
The music, I presume, was tribal chilling the nerves spreading fear of the night from our ancestors and the nectar of erotica in the muscles from the human-animal instincts. The drums were putting the minds around the fire in trance like a drug dissolving in blood. Expert’s hands knocking the door of pleasure against the skin of the dead animals with the sticks of the old soul woods.
Guitar along
with the beats of tribal drums and human heart beats was striking the right
chords of hearts preparing all mortals to become immune to death! There were eyes closed, eyes with tears, eyes
fixed at the eternity of night. The
music was wild and mystic just like any human hearts. The beats vibrated in
every cell of the flesh. Some weird awkward emotions like euphoria, nostalgia,
lust, melancholy, and vigil mixed together and made the moment a Moment.
The scene was
picturesque; crescent moon shined and stars here and there twinkled. Yellow of the fire and the black of the night
mixed to add color to the picturesque.
There were entwined hands, locked up eyes, heavy hearts, beautiful
souls, waging tails, unbridled love and unconditional affection. It was all a panorama of life on this
planet.
I was painting this moment with words from a distance. My name is Time.
