Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Poet's love

Beleaguered fools shall forever curse the rains, while the mystic poet sits beneath the Banyan tree and writes about the dark clouds above. No flute will ever play the tune to which his heart dances... and no songbird will ever be able to sing the song to which his soul moves. Its not the rains washing every inch of his flesh that cleanse him... its his breath that takes away all that hinders his being.

Oh poet of the moonless autumn night
Write to me words of love and wisdom
For once lost in woods so dark
I cannot see my home or the path
This falling rain reminds me of you
Sitting beneath a tree of gold
Playing the flute to the dancing wind
Watching the world slowly grow old

If night be the blanket beneath which I may sleep
Then remember me for the words I yearn to speak
A word for you and your beautiful soul
A word for the thundering of your heart

Oh mystic poet, be forever free
Like the stars in the night sky
Forever free...

1 comment:

Lehari. said...

beautiful..a poet heart really dances to encapsulate stuff in and in-between the lines of his poem..