Twilight Broodings Poem by Valsa George

Rich with thought, and very entertaining. Enjoyed very much.

Making the night look so pretty Says it all. We all are moving, where we know not. And how shall we know when nights start looking pretty. The imagery of human race with that of the flowing river, visualise, on meeting the ocean just as the river looses its identity this human race too like the river is bound to loose its identity. Thought provoking poem, ideas. I would like to share my poem Wayward, Are You? on almost similar subject.

A very contemplative write.I like some of your unique images. such asthe long pawed night and the rivers agitated frown.. A very thoughtfully written poem. We all need to slow down

As the wheels of time have run unto a moor of dismay and dismal exhibitions, we remain stranded on the pavement unusually shrunk. We recoil from the resplendent past but are flattened to lie deserted at these junctures of a callous phase of transition and new principle of halt for a while and resume your journey would be ideally looked upon by you and all. A poem that surmises the pile of concerns universal and inescapably surrounding. It is a fine piece to read ever.

The muse of life and the ways of nature. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

Movement Life in other words is love, and love is a movement. Movement of restless molecules, increasing temperature, sometimes suitable for a life to love, sometimes unsuitable. Sometimes its absolute zero, creating a cold black hole of nothingness, and sometimes it’s infinite, creating once again a nothingness of destruction to be followed by a gradual cooling slowing molecules to a movement that suits to love that suits to life. Movement I see, in orbbiting of electrons round the nucleus, like that of planets round the sun, like that of moons, round a planet, like that of a lover, round his beloved, like that of a believer, orbiting round a belief in God, there may not be a God, but at least there is an ancient nature, this angular rotation, increases temperature of hope, hpe keeps us alive, that’s how man lives. Without any such movement it’s too cold and icy like death. . (I started writing a comment on your poem, I don't know if it became a poem or remained just a comment. Whatever it may be but it's magic of your lovely poem)

Just then I chanced to think of Time and The twin forces making a pair Unable to get back from whence they came Rushing forward anon and for ever- - -so beautiful thoughts expressed in this marvelous poem!

Very nice to read with a start a middle story and a clever end, that's what makes a great poem...regards

Thank you. You have made me experience, viscerally, and lucidly, a full environment which is absolutely foreign to me. It's like I'm there with you. much deeper than a mere video.