The ships that pass through the night,
Also await
Some bit of redemption
From the constant slaughter
Of the waves.
If I could do a Neruda, You would have smelt of summer roses And Autumn pine. There would have been sheer love Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache And loneliness bordering the divine. You would have had so many secrets Welling up as in a girly giggle And so few friends who would hear them all. I am no Neruda I can't paint you a Summer breeze Amidst this long winter chill.
Deep. That's another way of looking at waiting. Even the ships that look so at home on the oceans wait for rest from the waves. Good one!
ReplyDeleteRajesh... this is meaningful.. sometimes you need to wait, just for a while...
ReplyDelete