Time on Earth
Why this many flowers
For the tiny herb?
Why this abundance of stars
For the sky?
Why this exuberance of words
For the ink?
Why so many lips for a smile?
When the spring arrives
A mere inscription of lines
Transforms itself to a rainbow.
When it departs
The kaleidoscope of sky
Is reduced into an insipid
Paper – spread of mere lines.
For me,
Being unaware of the celestial chemistry
The time on earth
Is a pain term of slavery.
Why this deep a secret
For this dainty province?
Poetry by P. Vijay Kumar
Read 555 times
Written on 2006-11-19 at 13:57
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