Palas Kumar Ray

Rookie - 203 Points (India)

The Roots


All what you search maybe
one or two saplings
then young, now old

grown much taller
in a dream
often frequenting.

All what you search
maybe
a few fragments of old roots.

But I can assume, in the end
what you may gather in your hand
when everything make you feel
you are a stranger.

Maybe the next flight
which you choose
to go back, to go back
to your present forever.






© Palas Kumar Ray.All rights reserved.

Submitted: Sunday, March 30, 2014
Edited: Saturday, June 07, 2014

Topic of this poem: poem


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