Sometime i think
i am choosing pebbles
on the sea shore of poetry
and be drunken with its muse
But i feel rare even to choose
even a single pebble
The pebble lying on the sea shore
is being driven out of my reach
by the strong waves of sea
and only sands are coming
to my hand and sliding
leaving my hand empty
appears my poetry is incomplete
I feel myself
is it my disappointment
to write poetry
to navigate my thoughts
for a realistic life
where life be bloomiing
with full fragnance
not in order to disanimate percipient
The juncture of my life
assubjugate all my possibilities
Life is blooming in its own course
and find out the gateway
for a better tomorrow
juxtaposition to my views
and analysis
so need not to worry
let it go and be happy.
ramesh rai
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-muse-36/
