THE MOOD
They say that moody you are!
It is not the Truth.
If I am not moody
How can I be a poet at all!
I wonder!
Always volatile the poet is,
Unpredictable!
Like a dog, he barks at times-
You think
Meaningless it is,
Only to recognize
The significance in the dawn!
To be moody is gracefulness,
For it is the right,
The seeking process which
The Moment does!
O, bud dear,
Are you also mercurial?
As impulsive as my heart
Always spelling
Ding dong, ding dong-
Or in systole or diastole,
I know you are!
Because how
Ambitious you are!
You have to blossom
The next tick, may be
The witness of the Great Event!
So you are erratic;
I would like to say Lunatic!
The temper is of course a volcano.
The Spirit in me, my liveliness,
My acuteness!
The mind’s un-colorful decorum
The Mood!
9-9-2011
Note: -
Volatile =
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem