Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Between the lines

The distant star's light reaches us
(without any pomp)
Silently and solemnly
She would cry facing the wall.

Thunder and lightning
It was her chuckle
Then in a flash
All smiling, she was.

She comes to me
"I wrote a poem" she says
"It doesn't look like one" I say
(So broken it was ,on a crumpled paper)

She sniggers away
Leaving the paper with me and shouting
"He likes it ! He likes it!"

All day I wander
Among the broken lines
And unknown lanes
As the creases on the paper
Breathe life into it.
(Like the river routes carrying vitality )

1 comment:

Prashanth said...

"He likes it!!".. good one