From the Recluse on the Hilltop

  

Like a giant whale
breaking the surface of

the silent dark ocean
waters to take a breath,

the old man opened
the window of his thatched

house on the
hilltop; the rusty hinges croaking mournfully,

to take a look at
the dawn of another day in his self

marooned home on the
hilltop

 

The wind bathed his
wrinkled face refreshingly

with the early
morning dews mingled with the acrid

smell of the burnt out grasses that were still hanging in

the air; a previous
day indiscretion by a careless farmer

the sun was just a
dazzling huge bowl on the eastern horizon

 

The
silence was deafeningly quiet that one could feel

it
with the fingers but in the surrounding bushes

The chirping sound of birds and insects reminded
him

that life still abounds despite
himself

 

It’s the old man
routine in the last two years

since pitching his
tent here; a way to escape

from the  choking despair
he’d known in the city:

barricading himself on
the hill, forbearing a mixup

with the new ‘civilization,’ he’d called the new ‘change’

 

To
him, nothing had changed to fulfil the people expectation

The
sky has not changed from white to green, nor the

day
turned out shorter or longer than they had been

He’d
expected to see men flying like eagles and the

society
as an affluence of what could only be imagined

in  a Saraphinic planes

 

That
had not happened; as was the wand upon which they

mounted
on the gullible populace to ride to prominence

There
had not been any compassionate all embracing

change
that the men had hoped for when they roughshod

the
old refreshing system to hoist a new cringingly fragile

contraption
upon the nation

 

 

If
there is any change to be seen, it’s been one excruciating

morbid
and draconic realignment from hopefulness to a

pessimistic
urge to just been alive to see what the next day breeds

Though,
I'd been holed up since the call for a fairer weather was

hoisted
in the land

 

He’d
been glad to have the chirping birds with their tiding

coming
to acquaint him with the going on in the outer world

Taking
a deep fresh breath of the morning distilled air

on
the mountaintop, he withdrew into the recluse of the

dark
chamber

 

How
long should he had to wait? How soon before a refreshing would come?