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30. HINGES
The gigantic silhouette of neem tree rested on hinges of tender roots,
embedded firmly at colossal depths from surface of ground,
anchoring the mighty structure for centuries till it swayed in the breeze.
polished teak doors studded with brass leaned on hinges of pure metal,
thoroughly oiled, lubricated with whale fat grease,
maneuvering with dexterous ease at instants of proximity with curled finger.
pearly white waters of the gurgling waterfall rested on hinges of the bare mountain,
plummeted down the barren slopes at breathtaking speeds,
diffusing into Herculean amounts of frothy spray,
while colliding with the obdurate trajectory of black rocks.
cat combed hives of the humming bee spun their homes on hinges of foliage,
bustled with feverish activity through speeding hours of the clock,
stuffing multiple pores of their tree top den,
with loads of freshly manufactured sickening sweet honey.
a plethora of birds flew with spurts of newly found energy,
resting lucratively on broad hinges of their wings,
relished the supreme freedom of sighting the world from infinite paces above
the ground.
i envisaged of sleeping on blissful hinges of love,
hinges luminating large with vibrant possession,
which could be provided only by unprejudiced feeling,
the person i possessed in mind, body, and spirit,
held captive deep within sensitive chambers of my heart,
the person i cared for above all denominations of the hollow society.