Nobody tells me to search for you as if there’s a timeframe for undertaking such quests! My voice sounds like yours, and often, looking at my arms, I get puzzled,
I forbade the clouds to sprawl around this flood plain- the clouds unendingly somersault around my windowpane at the beckoning of drooping hillocks though.
I’m telling you amidst the whispering cropped-headed paddy field, in the lore of these reeds, in the orchestra of these auburn after-harvest field by the seedlings that crack this soil-- I am their spokesperson.
Nobody tells me to search for you as if there’s a timeframe for undertaking such quests! My voice sounds like yours, and often, looking at my arms, I get puzzled,
Meanwhile I looked for space, for a new frontier.
I forbade the clouds to sprawl around this flood plain- the clouds unendingly somersault around my windowpane at the beckoning of drooping hillocks though.
(I guess) some birds don’t return to roosts.
I’m telling you amidst the whispering cropped-headed paddy field, in the lore of these reeds, in the orchestra of these auburn after-harvest field by the seedlings that crack this soil-- I am their spokesperson.
Doesn’t anyone get that my soul cringes for a call?
I say “No” to the jungle’s call.
In poetry’s kaleidoscope the clichés are sentiments, philosophy.
Would a few doors remain closed?
A Quest (You can) Take a break on the way to Kailash,