Flowing,
And guarded,
The prose started dwindling.
A barrage,
And a milieu
Of unspoken words –
Tired minds,
Unwavering joy.
Tag / muse
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.
Get lucky
While the red roses bloom,
For not one,
But all –
A merriment of nostalgia,
Gets interwoven,
Into the intricate workings
Of the lively being.
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.
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.
Heady sagas
A tidal wave of sorts rises over,
Bookmarked into a series of events,
One leads into another –
Like a stone on explosive waters
A vacant canal at bird’s sight,
That heeds only what its born with,
A reckless setting can oft prove worthy
A task for its multi-tasked mortals.
Why question when you can sing,
The melodies and love tunes of a long-lost world,
Brimming with upheaval –
And bursting with grandiose.
Penny for your thoughts
A river flowing out into the horizon
A glitch in the leaping cascade,
A barrage of thoughts creep onto your being,
A symphony of music rising through the dawn.
A Sight into My Psyche 