Flowing,
And guarded,
The prose started dwindling.
A barrage,
And a milieu
Of unspoken words –
Tired minds,
Unwavering joy.
Category / Musings
Words
Where our roads meet,
And where our roads end,
Can only be the voice of a supreme love.
To forge connections,
And to form bonds,
Forms the baseline,
Of all creative endeavours.
Sweet nothings
The best time of the year,
When the grass is green,
And the heat shallow –
Wind in the face,
And joy in the heart,
A testimony of things to come.
Transient
A rose-thorn bush,
In the need for continuous grooming,
Feels the need –
To be ever changing.
Diverge
To break through the overset boundaries,
To go against the new norms,
A tinge of wilderness
Is deep set within us
Half full
A brief here, a beehive there,
Might make for an oddball homecoming.
But the best of it all,
Lies in the travails and perseverances,
Of the good times ahead.
Pensive
A penchant for the unknown,
Knows no boundaries alive
When the star-studded alliance
Makes their forthcoming heard.
Hopeful
The heart, as it dwells on its many contentions,
It swells and fades,
With the might of a million pearls.
As a standard, it flutters
As a double standard, it even hopes
For green pastures and many wonderful nights.
Bedtime story
A solitary soul,
On a reflective path
Meets the collective force,
Of a million voices
A strange tryst of destiny
Gives forth,
The searing light,
Of destinies unknown.
Gardener’s Prose
A thought grows,
As it lurks and arises
Feeble as a bee
And stinging as a roar,
As it makes best friends with you
And you’re left with no choice –
But to give in,
And seek out.
A Sight into My Psyche 