I wonder! I wonder!
what is this world about?
As I try to work it out,
it seems like a poem:
a scattering of nice words,
an odd rhyme here and there,
a meter, not quite perfect,
but pleasant enough.
It's neither blank nor free,
carrying a tone that pleases some,
while others disagree.
Stanzas stretch, seeking redemption,
even if only in part.
Some verses shine;
others stumble,
middling,
messy,
a clumsy heap of meaning.
Yet, the sages and gnostics tell us:
there is a theme,
a thread worth tracing,
hidden within the chaos.
Like the weather in Kashmir—
unpredictable,
but alive with possibility.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem