The Boulevard - Poem by Ajit Das
Sometimes I feel I am facing a dead end,
unable to look into the distant future.
A cage of stone walls, gutters underneath,
woods obliterated, hills intercepted
by bellowing smoke paint a bleak backdrop,
creating an image of the captive present,
holding me entangled in a net of wiles.
Suddenly I hear whispers in my ears,
coming from afar aloft a gust of wind
laden with fragrance of blooming flowers.
Waves of light streaming in lift the dark.
Boundaries vanish; chains fall away.
From memories leading into the unknown
over the bridge of now, the road seems
one single stretch uninterrupted, radiant.
Comments about The Boulevard by Ajit Das
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.