The Baton.

Poetry tall spires of buildings risings from thick mist of the past or future?

Someone else will pick up
the Music that never ends
The baton
passed on hand to hand
from the relics of the past
to now
to the whispers of the future
A building, a deepening
of all that is
None know the beginnings
nor know the sound of the final note
It goes on
A continuum
we shall ever ponder

***





Published by Rafia Bilkis

Someone just like you— living the living. My heart a portal of Words.

7 thoughts on “The Baton.

  1. This was really creative, Rafia! I really loved the way you’ve played with this idea of never ending music and us not knowing on what note it would end. The final note here symbolizes a lot of things. This is a piece of art, exceptional writing and beautiful use of imagery ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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