(Sri Lanka)
My pencil tapped the page today,
not drawing, but drumming.
And suddenly, Colombo arrived—
a city beating to its own rhythm.
The pencil spun into waves of the Indian Ocean,
splashing salt across the margins.
It curved into the Lotus Tower,
tall and shyly pink,
as if a flower had decided to join the skyline.
Then a secret spilled:
long ago, elephants marched here in royal parades,
their tusks painted gold,
their steps echoing like living drums.
I added one to my page—
and the pencil chuckled,
as if it had been waiting for me to discover them.
When I signed my name,
I felt the whole city sway,
half-ocean, half-lotus,
all music.
✨ If your pencil could dance, what rhythm would it follow first?
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