Thursday, 30 July 2015


A swarm of fighter jets  whiz across the eastern  skies 

Trembling below 

The city of wood and beauty 

Serene gardens   

Ten Thousand shrines 

A life of millions 

But then; disarmed and un-pickled 

The planes just fly away 

Was it the pilots 

Was it the western  cabinet 

Was it the beauty of the gardens below 

No one really knows!

Seventy years have gone since 

Two big bombs fell elsewhere 

Million lives  lost  to hatred 

Cities burnt down to ashes 

Urban Monsters have now  taken their place 

But down here 

The temples stand  tall against the cedar trees 

The gardens are  still tranquil and green 

As an  alien to this drowning civilization 

I sit here by a temple pond 

Beside me, carps swim  and dance in a myriad of colors    

As  clear water ripples around their snouts and fins 

The reflected sunlight shines and glitters

Standing in  stoic silence

Stone lanterns and  tea houses tell tales to one another as they relive the past glory 

Another plane flies high now 

A white streak is left behind as a trail

Slowly,  like human history 

As all the traces gently fade 

The eastern sky is finally blue again 

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