Leap of faith

The clay God finally leaps into the waters from being mud in color and sound to blue sky.A September sky stops to be wet and emotional as the flowers sat there in a heap with plastics.The sky is back with overhanging tree branches gently waving to the mountain breeze in trance.

A smoke arose from behind highly littered hills of fetid garbage caught in blue fire of match. The crane sits on its haunches on the lake shore from  glory of personally hurling several Gods to ripples of the lake, the marigolds floating on the ridges, plastic bags behaving like birds.

The crane is not a bird meditating on its one leg.

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