Ice melting In the sunlight So are the word's Of empty promises Naked trees Standing tall And bare against Strong winds Grabbing Pushing Pulling Trying to break The now fragile branches Perfect shadows Mocking Artists brush As the Blue Skies Look down Reflecting there Presence in The Glassiness Of the water... Green .....the grass Will be once again... Nature.... The only truth... My safe haven... Peace of mind
“Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.”
“Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.”
" I exist as I am, that is enough.”
All the above quotes are by Walt Whitman- someome I fell in love with the first time I read him. And someone I highly look up-to whenever I am penning something. To say that I am influenced by Whitman's way of writing will be an understatement.
Sometimes we need to write not because we want to say something. But because our soul needs to heard.
If you made this far then thank you. I love you from the core of my heart.
Truth branches off from the binary telltales of self , Applying a grayish ointment in the scars . As echoes from the past diverge to form A blurry persona in the mirror , A kite crossed the sky , causing a bloom In those backwaters where festivals intertwined with existence . Thus ideas gathered and collided In this abyss To trace a route that embraced shadows... In a flash , the time was ruptured ...
With soul , fabrics were created for launch. With strings attached , the kites shot up , Beautiful dreams distilled , with no passing Glance at earth. The adults lifted us and cheered . Serene waves beat on island's wall . The newborn mangoes smiled at The debauchery of night . All before time was a box of constraints . Before embers took their last breath in that box. And feathers spiralled into demise .
An iridescent train came and gone . An odyssey turned into exodus ? maybe . But , unrooted ,even the banyan trees will fall.
Silence thundered on the shutters to Squeeze and shut the deluge in eyes Thus muted the rupture of My mind and toned up the wheels . The jet from which blasted My stringless kite far far away .
The dwellers in those mystic land had polygonal Faces . Amidst their skyscrapers we screamed , when the Packleader fell . Soon I was passed the torch ,to light a candle, But one of thousands , in that blazing ocean .