Journeys Poem by arundhati sinha

I wander through
crowded streets of your paralyzed brain
psychotic hypnotic blur of smells and hues
dust and rage, rust and age
never a new day. All the same,
I wander.

I seek
calm of an ocean with a raging storm;
sanctity of the union of real and not;
the colours of a butterfly on
a fresh, youthful, restless breeze.
I seek.

I find
loss and grief, gold and greed
pain mindlessly embraced and people refused
in the turbulent hopeless mess
I find, I seek, I wander.