Life journeys cross ether’s bridge,
whistling tones of moments,
melting in air as smoke.
Moving effortlessly along the ridge,
vanishing into thick ,in a moment,
lost with ticks of clock.
I wonder in astonishment,
of god’s perfect tracks,
guiding the life - train.
A whiff of praying scent,
steering life forth and back,moving ahead in unknown terrains.
Written for Magpie Tales : Mag 267
The Zenith is:
○ stanzaic, written in any number of sixains.
○ meter at discretion of poet.
○ rhymed, abcabc defdef etc