Day: December 22, 2015



She trudges along, as if blindfolded by the moon.  No, it is not dark. But she cannot discern anything except the light that covers her petite form. She has only this road to traverse. As she takes in every bit of the light deep within her bosom, she wonders if she will ever come back here. Consumed with passion, she has not counted the miles………do they even matter?

Questions on my plate…


This have I fathomed,

After measuring out spoonfuls of life,

That every paradigm shift,

Every little strife-

-Puts up shameless questions…..

That hollow-eyed stare

As if to gobble up the night…..


When wonders cease to be

And they become obsolete,

When the light at dusk,

Sighs downward in rejection…….

When every singing flower,

Fails to have an audience;

When the river flows on and on,

Meandering aimlessly;

When unanswered questions,

Like left-overs in the plate,

Scared to confront…..

Lay hidden in the dark.


This have I fathomed,

That questions do not carry answers;

They are clouds

On a dark, dark sky……

That descend upon me,

When thunder has struck a blow……

They thaw and run down,

Wash away all creases…..


Till new seeds I sow.