Friday, September 28, 2007

Symphony of Light

Bhakti Roberto
Professor Robitaille - ENC2305
September 26th, 2007
Descriptive Essay

I step out into the sultry night onto the winding temple road and let down my hair. I slip off my shoes and place them on the side of the road to return to later. 

I drink in the night. The moon embroiders the trees draped in Spanish moss with silver. The stars glisten. The sand warms my toes and the air is thick like velvet on my skin. 

Suddenly I glimpse a flash of light. Curiosity spiked, I scurry around the corner to clear the trees.

And there… out on the distant horizon loom kingdoms of clouds, rich and powerful, the color of Shyam’s monsoon skin. I gaze in wonder and then – there! The clouds seem to catch on fire, glowing golden in their bellies. No sooner does the flame race through the clouds does it snuff out.

My jaw softly drops. I witness the spectacle again and again, and it catches my awe every time. At one point I glance around, desperately searching for someone to share this with. Yet it’s just me, barefoot, loose hair, on some winding, starlit road.

So I walk a ways to find the perfect spot to settle down and watch the show. My heart quiets to take in the sweeping majesty of those clouds in the distance. They must be several miles high, billowing and dense like spools of black spun silk. What’s more, the sky opens up above me, utterly clear of the tiniest wisp of cloud. The moon smiles serenely and casts moon shadows everywhere.

The kingdoms of clouds pulsate with billowing flashes of golden light, and I immerse myself in the music of this symphony of light. I juxtapose the mischievous, irregular rhythm of the lightning with the still gaze of the stars and the gentle eye of the moon. How small I am! I simply watch as the gods play their silent symphony. I am just a grain of sand… watching.

I don’t know how long I sit there in the grass, my toes in the sand, entranced. I lose sense of time.

Deeper into the night, the symphony of light crescendos... and then falls away.

When I return to my shoes and braid up my hair once again, I feel an awe that I could be a witness to such splendor, and an ache that I had been alone.

I hope this essay invited you in.  

heat lightening, image courtesy of


kushmanjali108 said...

beautiful. simply beautiful.
a work of art

Vinod said...

I visualise it as if I was there myself ! And you were not alone did you not feel him around you ?

To write is to dare the soul. So write.