Perhaps
Perhaps
in my mind, perhaps a poem tries
To paint the colours of the vernal sky,
Awaiting sunshine and the tender rain,
To sprout and to ease my lingering pain;
Perhaps it longs to shade the warmth of love
Sprinkling gently like showers from above,
Perhaps it yearns to portray birds that sing,
Butterflies gliding in the air of spring;
Perhaps it took birth in stillness of night
While many others snored and slumbered tight,
When the mind blossoms in deep quietude,
Away from the rush of the multitude;
Perhaps it craves for time and open space
To bloom as flowers and to shine apace,
To show its sparkling substance to the world,
The allure of its beauty to unfurl;
Perhaps it's caught in the web of my mind
And needs a soft, gentle touch to untwine,
A spark of solitude, still and serene
To duly emerge from the hazy scene;
Perhaps it misses the hues glowing bright
To tint the sunrise orange, warm and light
Or waits for inspiration from a muse
Or is at a loss the colours to choose;
Perhaps it fears the brush of outer views
Or is averse, established norms to bruise,
Perhaps it dreads the haze so dim and white
That afflicts man with a hazardous blight;
Perhaps it is still raw and imperfect
In want of some added time to reflect,
Perhaps it needs a gentle eye to glance
A soft heart, willing to provide a chance;
Perhaps it transcends what verses can say
Or hides funny feelings felt on the way
That may trigger a smile from some readers,
Intent on going down the lines further;
Perhaps it is just blowing in the air
With endless perhaps hanging everywhere,
A soft song sung on a melodic tune
Soaring to the shrine of the silver moon.
Copyright ©
Krishnanand Guptar
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