A window brings in
Light of a diffused kind
And a beauteous mix
Of rust red and orange leaves.
Green leaves on an adjacent tree
Hang on stubbornly, resisting
Gusts of icy winds.
Autumn, a pink fading rose
Shows a smiling face nourished by the unseen
Up surging nutrients running
Through trunks to branches.
I think of Grantchester meadows
Lying quietly by the quescient waters
Of the Cam. Thoughts stir
Rise from a rectangular room
To heights of the starry spread above
Space, Time and Tensor Calculus to tell its story

by Hemal Jayasuriya
Poetry thrives in a shadowy, allusive world in which feelings that can be un-pinnable in precise language come into a reality all their own. It may seem to have little to do with the world of facts and experimentation that is science. If all that there is can be explained by what we see and/or what we can prove, what need is there for poetry?
POEM
Birds Sing
More Poems by Hemal Jayasuriya
- Edge of a Beach
- Random Walks
- Young and Old
- Olympia
- Interdependence
- Soul Mountain
- Most Strange
- Starburst
- Ordering Into Shape, Unpredictable
- Rashomon
- Differentation
- Prospera’s World
- You are my woman of abstract
- A Leaf In Free Fall, Rotating
- Empty Dot Amongst Moving Matter
- Tom’s Clock
- Women and Men
- The Feel of Beauty
- Vacuum Fluctuations
- Into The Woods
- Starlight
- From Zero to Meaning
- In A Third Space : Science And Humanities
- Light of the Non-existent Sun
- Where is Time
- Events Jostle Inside The Black Box