Monday, June 18, 2007

She Is The Wind

Gentle winds,
Rustling the leaves;
A message in her being,
Perfume on her lips;
Someone’s tears,
Chuckles of a baby;
Laden with these,
And much more,
She travels the world.
Free, yet restrained;
Calm, yet anxious;
Fast, yet gentle;
She passes you,
She passes me.
Caressing my cheeks,
As she carries my words,
Hidden in a silent whisper,
Across the globe, to newer worlds.

4 comments:

  1. Poetry, though sometimes beautiful, is essentially an escape.

    What are you escaping from? What is it that you don't want to put in plain words?

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  2. Hmmm... well honestly there's nothing to escape from. I use poetry as another form of communicating, purely for myself. I share it online coz different people derive different meanings from words, that's all! :)

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  3. never knew you used to write such beautiful verses. really meaningful - true, she carries your words to newer worlds !

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  4. Hehe... Thank you... Well I have rediscovered the art of writing coz I had stopped when I was about 14. I'm so glad I started off again though!

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