Uninhabited canvas of mind
pens for colours divine
a motley array of thoughts:
drawing ancestry from
complacence insouciance indifference
of gods made of our adrenaline
dreams or peach n’ cream
appear as apparition illusion
in this vast wilderness of nothingness
a moment a tiny little fraction
that escaped the calculations the undoings
the diametric cleaving of memories
hungrily sucks on the arid
spread of a virgin canvass
and spends itself to become
a masterpiece
* Came to being while reading Indira's recent vignettes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
poem borne of a poem...spreading tentacles of human imagination...thnq, rehan!