Saturday, April 9, 2011

Secret whispers ...


How can I give you my thoughts?
For they are not mine anymore!
I let them linger on the jumbled lines of my poem,
I let them be with the autumn moon,
I let them float along the aching veins,
I let them befriend the morning mist.
They have merged with the sun kissed horizon,
they are washed ashore along with the lonely night.

Yet
when the dreams would be luminous,
when the arid desert
would be surprised by a heavy downpour,
a fragile sapling would take birth like a feeble hope,
on that day I would
secretly,
avoiding all eyes,
without anyone’s knowledge,
quietly,
place them on your quivering palm;
and on that day, sinking in your arms
my thoughts would learn to flow.

9 comments:

Rose said...

Wow, and that is all I can say about this piece you really did yourself proud with this one!!! Sigh....

The Unknowngnome said...

Ah, what joy aflow!

Krislin Neo, Ting (Syracuse Pike) said...

Your poem..it set me thinking.. Yeah, thoughts, not mine anymore...

I love the expression used on a fragile sapling would take birth like a feeble hope.... that's just mystical in my eyes...

ayala said...

Beautiful words...

Andy said...

Absolutely beautiful.

Motivational Poems said...

Beautifully done :)

Take care
Marinela
Short Poems

Promising Poets Parking Lot said...

super lovely.

Awards for you, thanks for the support!

bless your day.

Brian Miller said...

mmm...very nice...in the palm finding flow...i like that end...

Vinay said...

oh Doc, this is exquisite, thought provoking, beautifully rendered verse! Both give beauty in themselves, I so preferred them together! A take to behold for sure! :)

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