Without poetic seed there won't be prose. The entire network of branches, twigs, flowers, fruits and leaves is nothing but a commentary on the small poetic seed. So all ye wannabe writers, nurture the poet in you, who understands the value of pause in life, who moves slowly to watch everything, sight and smell everything. Brushstrokes of poetry softly touch the soul without disrupting its restful muse and bring out nuggets of love, compassion, harmony and peace. All content © Sandeep Dahiya
Embraced by the pining silence
and stillness of these mute hours,
my detached self grows more detached
and aloof like those misty distances
virginally spread out under the star light.
Thus, the lone pine
felt absolutely fine.
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