A hundred years and river of tears,
Not knowing ‘I’...
And then in spring the heart flowered,
Petals trembled in excitement,
The light was tremendous,
Blossoming had happened,
The sky could be felt from far,
The wind could be heard from a distance,
Existence now had a new meaning,
‘I’ was lost than before,
Sans purpose,
Drifting,
Waiting,
Not many would know,
The joy of feeling the ‘I’ in you,
Not any would know,
The hand of God...
Not knowing ‘I’...
And then in spring the heart flowered,
Petals trembled in excitement,
The light was tremendous,
Blossoming had happened,
The sky could be felt from far,
The wind could be heard from a distance,
Existence now had a new meaning,
‘I’ was lost than before,
Sans purpose,
Drifting,
Waiting,
Not many would know,
The joy of feeling the ‘I’ in you,
Not any would know,
The hand of God...
4 comments:
A lovely poem Ismita. True, one really does not know the hand of God unless one is really connected...
A lovely poem Ismita.
indeed, the joy of knowing I in you is mesmeric. You write quite well and just saw you have authored a book too. That's really cool. Not many of my friends in blogger had done so. I shall be stalking here more often. :)
aJ
Thank you for dropping by Aakash and I am glad that you enjoyed reading my poems :)
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