All poems have wings
May be each one sings
As a cascade or a weeping willow
Some Phoenix types always glow.
Imageries are their costumes
Full of coloured plumes
Where do they fly?
Only in the bright sky
Of a few
Posterity may be in a queue
For rebirth
Of the Bard of earth.
Most nominal birds get lost
In rain, heat or frost.
Oh the Muse of Life
My strife
Is to flow
Like you, today- tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice description of what a poet thinks about poems in general and poems penned by him in particular. Insightful write. Enjoyed the poem. Thanks for sharing.10 points.