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
As the night shades prevailed
over the last rays
of a musty, hot and humid day,
she lay on the fragrant bed
of a Champa flower
and went into eternal sleep.
Another day rises.
The once smiling cup of nectar
now merely a little sombre coffin.
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