An idea, a thought, an anecdote, a story or a poem a day!

 5 words From trailing clouds of glory Neera  Drawn with clay,  on this yellow canvas, we come to life. Blessed with five senses,  we still forget,  refusing to see or hear,  what's so clear! Our illusion,  that we are forever,  our tenacity,  not to understand that we aren't here to stay! We are just on our way,  to merge back into that glow, that we come from and where we go!

When it was at the cusp of passing into the dark abyss of time,  I tried to write a message of hope to today,   borrowing words from its yesterday and tomorrow!  While writing on the nautical sheets of time,  with a pen of clay, carved out of the very body of its being,  I put a tinge of hope,  taking colours from the green and gold of its forestry  to brighten the dark ink! But time flows like water,  so, as I tried to enter my first letter of hope,  it drowned into regret and remorse, a reminder from its yesterday, and when I tried to enter my second letter of hope,  it raged into a rebuke, a scalding reprimand from its tomorrow,   that it is too little, and too late! I wiped the slate, and started all over again!  Five word challenge Pen clay cusp enter tinge