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
A fish’s drowning is on the land
where you stand
safe on the lovely sand,
And you drown
like a miserly pathetic clown
where she swims,
We are kings in our zone safe
but paupers in other’s territory.
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