A poem should be soundless as the flight of birds...A poem should be equal to not true....A poem should not mean but be.

Curiosity and life

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In a quiet evening as the sun is moving down
Watching it breach the faraway horizon
Cool breeze making the trees dance in its rhythm
Sweeping the burning land with its motion
Seeing the birds go back to their nest
Nature summons me to take some rest
My nimble heart and soul wouldn’t listen
But flies on the wings of curiosity and emotions
Watching a pair of birds settle in their nest
Would it be cozy filled with warmth?
Would they share their love, their wealth?
Or is their life like in our materialistic world?
Filled with selfishness, perplexity and wrath?
Or do they live a life of simplicity?
Their satisfaction yielded from togetherness
Or to them life is not so serious after all?
More these questions come to my heart
In this quiet evening as I watch the sun go down
My sagacious mind says its dark now
You’ll have to give your restless heart and soul
Into the hands of slumber.


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Dinita Rai
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