I start to go somewhere
and take a wrong road
leading to that rocky shore.
Now it's puzzling,
Why it's so?
I never bother to think.
Somewhere, near, on a patch of
sand, long back I scribbled
a message, now washed away.
That moment, a storm
riding over the sea,
madly pushing the breakers
to embrace those humble rocks
witnessed it.
I get the signal in the air
and I take the wrong road
to meet the whispering storm.
I walk back, possessed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem