The Lisping set flames
7 November 2015
Weary is the soul
That tireless travels between
Fires and Waters
Icicles will form
On the tips of my eyelids
For brethren washed out
The fire cleanses
Shards that shifted in morrows
Between Blue and Red
The clock stuck in twelve
Struck more than the midnight count
When spirits would roam
I floated in air
Circles bound me to nowhere
As the river flowed
Rotating in trap
The core shifted towards more
The Lisping set flames
Seven spelled the days
Four and four faced the seven
Infinity flew
Rumi Poem, Iranian Music and Divine Dance
Geetha Balvannanathan's Blog - Isis Tratum 
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