Flight of Imagination

My mind A kite devoid of string Is dozing like sky In the embrace of clouds. A blank curtain is lying On fearless void In the opposite window. Feeling of a beautiful face Is growing, As a seedling sprouts In the wet climate I repeatedly peep inside With a desire to find her And come out bare-handed, When I have to write Some sensitive poems On streaks of sentiments Playing on those unseen faces. And I have to talk Something else also- Like my age, capacity to love And my bound hands On the path of duty, Those scare me, Delude me and Titillate me severely, too. Time also, Like rudderless boat, Is floating far and far Beyond my reach. And knowing everything plainly How unknown it seems The mental kite of my poetry.