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On the whitewashed wall
A train of black Ants like a pilgrimage,
While they are going never miss to talk each other.
Where are they going?
It's a puzzle for me.
Soon they vanished and I touched the wall,
I felt the vibration of their footsteps.
I am sure they found another World beyond the wall.
I sit and scribble in between the walls
But I cannot see the outside unless I break the wall.
*Oh! Who made this barrier? I thought it's ordinary bricks but much stronger than mud!
poem
by
Nimal Dunuhinga
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