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
The moment is frozen
but it breathes,
Slowly its stillness moves
and gently leaks into air,
The eerie stalemate is broken.
Reality is just a
series of such moments,
Just like cinematography,--
a moving picture;
just snapshots of perception.
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