Plain white sheets I write on.....
one emotionless day stand still in front
its calm cold layers
freeze my fingers,
incarcerate mind’s fervor..
near I hear foot prints on sand
rain drops drizzle...
I hear.... tears from my eyes or
from the clouds above...
on grass I walk and I feel
so earthy, wisteria climbs and
drapes purple flowers on my dreams,
a sparrow so tiny finds a nest
on my bemused alphabets
wind blows slowly so softly and
whispers a secret, a fear
of a secret of a dream I dreamt
I take autumn colors
as its aroma is earth
and it is my color, a survivor
of my amber dreams
rest all shriveled as black, reflecting
life’s emptiness on the edge of a cliff
moving crowd....
as they move forward
no care, no feelings, no love
but flaunts a pale greed....
they move forward, in a hurry
in search of elusive self...
....a 10 has been clicked for this thoughtful expressions.
We are all trying to find out the elusive mysteries of life and to where we shall go. It all seems so mystic and surreal. Yet, we love to dwell on this subject as it gives us enigmatic thinking prowess and feel. Thanks for sharing what you have done. Arya.
This poem is really very nice which describes emotions and the way they seem blank in ones life.
whoa...very lyrical, i agree with helen...beautiful colors woven through this...as always, your one of my favorites.10/10
this poem has so many different images...in the first few verses i thought rain, and a white house/sheets....then sun, grass, darkness again...fall/winter and summer....very beautiful...you are an excellent poet 10/10
Hello Rema, You touched my heart with this beautiful poem, I have been in this place a thousand times. 10! from me... Dorothy A Poet Who Loves to Sing
I say, It is really a poem. But I compose on water sheet with a miracle pen.Waves erase it every seconds. Rema its a great job.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You present your thoughts clearly in well written poetic proseand strike a resounding chord with me. To know oneself and accept that you are whatyou are no more and no less is the beginning of wisdom I enjoyed your writing ivor