On The Whitewashed Wall Poem by nimal dunuhinga
On The Whitewashed Wall
A train of black Ants like a pilgrimage,
While they are going never miss to talk each other.
Where are they going?
It's a puzzle for me.
Soon they vanished and I touched the wall,
I felt the vibration of their footsteps.
I am sure they found another World beyond the wall.
I sit and scribble in between the walls
But I cannot see the outside unless I break the wall.
*Oh! Who made this barrier? I thought it's ordinary bricks but much stronger than mud!
Life has many barriers, but poetry transcends them all. As usual, your rapport with nature resonates. Always your friend, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 1:55:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Your image of ants on a whitewashed wall is original and compelling. This poem poses questions for which there seem to be no answers - but like all good philosophical debates, the questions are what matters in the long run. Brilliant word-smithing. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥