Sketches Of The Mind Poem by ashok jadhav

The sketches of the mind are lightly drawn,
In half-formed lines of thought and fragile hue;
They shift by dusk, are altered by the dawn,
And fade before the picture feels quite true.
No image there is ever fixed or whole,
Each dream revised by doubt or passing time;
The hand that draws belongs to searching soul,
Still learning shape, still reaching for a rhyme.
Some sketches hold what words refuse to name,
Some hide our fears in beauty unconfessed;
They blur the edge between desire and shame,
Between what's hoped for and what's left unguessed.
Yet in these drafts, unfinished, unclear,
The truest self appears—raw, sincere.