Face towards the horizon
a bird flies high
to drink from
the ocean of the blue.
Pushing forth
with all the might.
Tricking itself
into some unforeseen moves.
Feeling the pulse of its desire.
Dreaming a dream.
The place
where horizon's feet
seemed to set
is erased as it reaches there.
Begins afresh.
Begins once more.
Unable to erase itself
the stupa of longing in it,
unable to push into oblivion
the gravity of the horizon,
the beauty of the blue,
the bird is left afloat
The bird is left
flying on an endless

Poetry by Mukul Dahal
Read 643 times
Written on 2006-12-01 at 15:57

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Zoya Zaidi
Dear Mukul, it is so beautiful!
Reminds me of my own poem:' A Bird's Saga"!
It is so interesting that we should both use it as the symbol of life, may be it our Indaness?!
Please check it out, I would love to have your opinion on it!
Love, Zoya