Horizon: Drawing Lines

If you draw a line there
And I draw a line here
What do we draw beneath and above ourselves

Are we walking toward the same inimitable sunset
If you put a tree there, and I put a tree here
Can we rest under the same shade

We see one another, walking in parallel
Is the chasm between us too wide
For our hands to reach

If I draw a line here, and you draw a line there,
We still breathe the same air—
I wonder, can we meet on the road, somewhere.


Horizon:  A Perspective

When young, the horizon is golden,
untainted, glorious, magical, wondrous
the world not pinned down by lines.

Future blooms with promise
an iridescent and resplendent hope—
even the shadows of sunlight are brilliance.

In the passage of time, walking onward,
we wrinkle; wisdom teaches us
the length of a flower’s breath.


Horizon: A Paradox

The journey is boisterous and silent,
bounteous and deserted, brimming and solitary,
bewildering and illuminating, beauteous and somber.

Paradoxical, like rust requiring oxygen;
treading at night reveals fullness of day—
painful feet make us cognizant of joy.

This pilgrimage toward the horizon,
this sojourn toward a red and amber sky—
it shapes, molds, burns, instructs.

One thing is certain, only this I see,
the mystery is staggering, overwhelming—
I wonder, will you walk with me.

© prasanta January 31, 2017

(Note: I originally had each of these three poems in one long poem; however, someone who knows poetry pointed out there were several poems encompassed in that one, and offered some other excellent suggestions on revising. The (latest) result is above, inspired by the prompt “Horizon”, at