misty dew hangs amongst the trees
that stand outside, by the reservoir
the sun is hot, and bathed in its heat
and light of the waning afternoon
is the silence of mankind's civilisation
by the trees amongst the reservoir
that i could not see.
in the silence, there is wonder;
for was there silence five score years ago,
when these old trees may have stood
like wise old scholars now, who have
seen, who have heard, and who know.
but they do not see, hear, or know.
for they are trees, despite age.
the jungles where the malays may have dwelled,
through which a tar road runs down
to the reservoir, the old water from where
the mist comes, where the snakes drink.
i saw a monkey scamper across the road,
to its nest in a tree, that looked upon a man
who is now in the ground, food for the worms.
the fog floats translucent in the sunlight,
the clouds float still in the sky, as the earth moves
down, turning away from the sun, to see the moon;
whence mankind sleeps. mankind sleeps, under the moon.
mankind lives then, under the sun. mankind sleeps.
mankind dreams... waking to life under the sun.
they do not see the reservoir, but they see the trees,
in the afternoon sun, the old tar road is abandoned,
and the air is silent.
Ibrahim Sharif (21st century) Maldives
Source: Maldive Shores
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