Dilantha Gunawardana


The War At Home


There was once a war
Between human eyes and a window
As lips of fury were unveiled
As claims were sprung
In a babel of voices

The window first took his turn
And recited
‘I gaze at the beauty of nature
From sprightly dragon flies
To blooming wild hibiscuses
As I capture nature’s secrets
In their mystery and idiosyncrasy’

Then the eyes barked
In a retaliating tone
‘I can do all that
Even imprint the surrounding beauty
In reels of memory
Immortalized in parchments
In grey and white’

The window then
Summoned her ally, the drapes
And claimed
‘I can resolve my field of vision
I can transform
From an orifice of sight
To the vacuity of a cocoon
All in a passing second’

Then the eyes galloped forward
And said
‘I have my eye lids, my own drapery
That masterminds
The capture of the inimitability of beauty
And abandons
All which is sinister and evil’

Then the window refuted
In a zesty tone
‘Sunlight traverses me
Moonbeams descend on me
The monsoons kiss me
I serenade the forces of nature
To my willing lips’

To which the eyes bellowed
‘I have my own sunshine
The perpetual glow of my iris
I even succumb to my own raindrops
As tears befall
Wrenched by my probing conscience
And I am like the moon
A perfect circle
Only captured by the eyes of man’

And as fury
Erupted like a tempestuous volcano
The window in her last stance
Soaking in all her vigor and vitality
Gently whispered

‘I can look out
I can even look in
To see the tapestry of beauty
That lies on both sides of me’

And thus, the human eyes
Surrendered to the canny window
In deep thought
At the mysticism of life
That lies deep inside each man

Submitted: Sunday, July 07, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, July 09, 2013

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The poem on a battle between human eyes and a window

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