Category Archives: sky

Ode to the Sky VII

Wow! How time flies when you are planning your next few posts! Gosh, I must say that I’m amazed that we could get this far with our series of Odes to the Sky, and trust me there’ll be more to come in future! As I told my friends on the WFR Team : The sky has been shared by beings for millions of years, human and otherwise, and even beyond our beautiful blue planet, there is beauty. Beauty that only an artist can create. And when photography meets technology, a riot of wonders takes place, filling the soul as it has never been filled before. Here is a mix of digital art, poetry, prose and photography about the ancient, distant sky.
So yes viewers, this ode is a package in itself! Just sit back….and enjoy.

So this particular post shows off the differences in art today, and how diverse it is. The difference between reality and fantasy has been blurred thanks to digital art software. Amazing photographers capture moments no painter can ever dream of capturing with his brush or graphic tablet. Writers live to capture life and feeling in their words. And, when the feeling is love, and when love is for the vast immortal roof above all mankind, well…:)

Image credits go to Christos Lamprianidis: http://chris- and was used with his direct permission.
Or else, check out more at-
Now when Dawn in robe of saffron was hastening from the streams of Oceanus, to bring light to mortals and immortals, Thetis reached the ships with the armor that the god had given her.
—Iliad xix.1
But soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, then gathered the folk about the pyre of glorious Hector.
—Iliad xxiv.776

The Iliad, by Homer

Image credits go to:

and was used with her direct permission
Poem by: Vasika Udurawane
The light shone
Bright in our eyes,
Bringing forth wonders!
The Savior had heard me,
My prayers ringing hard,
Like bells from eons ago,
The Lord descends as a being of flight,
Descends as a Bird of Peace and Right,
For the world He heals with angelic eyes,
From wild blue yonder,
To heart of mine.

Image credits go to myself, Vasika Udurawane: ostrommaysorum-392428724 and will not be used without my direct permission

Prose by: Vasika Udurawane


Ophelia flexed her muscular limbs once more, cramped from siting in her favorite hole in the deep snow that covered the once-leaf-strewn floor of the birch forest. Her orange eyes were like fires against the cold darkness that was all around her.  And she wondered how she knew it too…had some primal force more powerful and omniscient in this forest than herself, stuck into her mind that she should know the seasons back to front? Or had she somehow got it into her head that winter, while hard, was still radiant in all its hues?
The goddess of the forests for years and years, Ophelia prided herself as the taker of all life but every time she looked at the glory around her….she felt less powerful. Was there something above her head that was by far stronger than the eighty-foot behemoths she sometimes hunted? Something that could strike her down with a mere breath, fearing neither her curved claws nor her brutal, snapping jaws?

Walking onward, and stifling a yawn, Ophelia paused.

There was fire in the skies around her.

The vermilion richness of the mountainous clouds around her seemed to caress her senses as she gazed out into the countryside. This was home, this was the power around her. In her mind, Ophelia heard herself hiss in laughter….in laughter at the things she would never ever know.


                                                       Image credits go to: Marc Adamus
                     ( and has been used with his direct permission.
-in Ogilive, Yukon Territory
Poem by: Shailendree Wickrama Adittiya
As he held the king coconut
Against the orange skies
He was reminded of his
Little sister
The same shade of orange
She had loved to wear
Dresses and hair bands
So bright
Yet so simple
That same orange,
He had later seen
In the midst of the fire
That burned the corpse
As he said good bye to his sister
For the very last time
He fought away the tears
As the orange reminded him
Of what once was
Of what had been snatched away
From him
She had been just another number
Just another victim of war
And yet,
He knew it wasn’t just
Another death
The country, the world
Had lost an angel
And for that,
The rivers and the heavens

Image credits go to: Ayodhya Karunaratne

Poem by: Vijini Mallawaarachchi
-in Negombo, Sri Lanka
“Over the sparkling white waves
Towards the mystic oceans
Seeking the never ending horizons
Exploring the deep…
We go on voyage
Under the velvet blue sky
Exploiting mystic dark fathoms
Beyond our eyes…
We go on a ship
Sailing round the world
On seven seas
Passing through storms
Gazing at the deep
Furious waves
We keep on sailing
Till we find sun shine…
Life is like a voyage
Beyond vicinity
This is an amazing
Odyssey of sailing
In oceans of fantasy…”

Image credits go to: Marc Adamus

( and has been used with his direct permission.
Poem by: Shailendree Wickrama Adittiya
One held the Bombai motai against the sky
And smiled at the blend of colors
The other looked through the red glass paper
Laughed when her world turned a red pink
Mere kids, they were
Sitting on the wall
Barefoot, clothes dirty
They were happy though
For worries, they had none
Except if the clouds
Tasted sweet too
And so when the world turned over
They didn’t understand why
It seemed like a sheet of grey
Glass paper had been placed before their eyes
Everything, so dark, so eerie
Their smiles slowly faded,
The Bombai motai left untouched
Their place on the wall empty
For like the pink skies
They were gone too”

Image credits go to: Amrita Pieris

Poem by: Shailendree Wickrama Adittiya
-in Jaffna, Sri Lanka
Love doesn’t make sense,
And neither does hate,
And yet we love,
And we hate
We give life
We take life
And we go on
We think it all makes sense
Why one group is a majority
And the other a minority
It’s all about the numbers
And nothing else
I feel like telling them
But their beliefs
Ah! Can they be changed?
It’s an adult thing,
It seems
To think they are
Never in the wrong
And so they believe
They are better than the rest
And I,
I believe that,
Against the pink-purple skies
Pigs will someday fly