Oh, indeed I do not write my poems
They happen to come to my pen
And flow across expressing my thoughts
As long as my feelings remain
Spontaneously they come
And spontaneously they go
Independent of my time and space
I only seize the moment in deep contemplation
And let word flow at its space
The thoughts I cherish
In my deep-seated mind
Always hide in a submerged land
And flow on its own in the form of a poem
Like a breeze in a dream island
The joy that trails
Forms a stream of bliss
Where I take a dive for fun
Staying motionless to enjoy the moments
For as long as I can
It is the mind of the universe
Just working through me
That I know for sure
I'm only a tool in the hands of my beloved
A tiny wave on the ocean - nothing more!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
*The poet remains as an 'eyewitness' of his (or her) innate poetic creation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Spectacular poem, Tushar! A perfectly flowing rhythm throughout this innate poetical creation. You have touched the place my poetry stems from. Beautiful poem, I love it totally! Thank you for sharing, RoseAnn