![]() Just a weed, isn't it? But you'd love to make a wish and blow....... I don't know if it'd come true. Don't ask me 'cause I haven't ever tried it. :) I muse and muse and muse and muse ('cause I have nothing else to do!), and when I think of the entity aforementioned, I can't help but observe a striking likeness of a dandelion to persistence.... You've got your heart into something and you just can't let it go.... so you work and work and work and spend some sleepless nights in work and have less fun and more of work and less of talk and more of work and then some more.... And you sow and water and air and sun and reap your work- viola! It's your dandelion of success..... But Fate to trying gales says, 'Blow!' And you're all indignant oblivion...... And as snowflakes in wintry nights descend in silent hueless splendour, the seeds are falling too.... So look up! For each effort of yours is a dandelion again.... :)
0 Comments
There are words− so many – behind that sabotage. And there are longings. Longings, longings, longings Haven’t fathomed ever been, Longings, longings, longings Mayn’t ever fathomed be, Such longings as only tenderness can procure from that ruefulness! O− which starlit dark devoid of midnight sun in frosty-dewy-misty glory has seen not misery, nor heard sobs shivery, or grown dim in disgust at humanity’s heartless-mindless-soulless belligerence? And aye, ’tisn’t a mere mirage or a madman’s fancy, but a conflict cursed with longevity like bereavement….. A childhood unremembered− ephemeral as happiness− does carry wounds sorrow deep! Alas, too sad to weep…. Through fields o’ mangled moulds o’ clay and whipping sands chagrined…. A lonesome embodiment of suffering plods away to nothingness…. But listen, do try− For many words do lie Like tears conceal’d Like wounds unheal’d Like red congeal’d On lips oft seal’d. Ephemeral .......childhood. |
AuthorAlina N. Kidwai Archives
October 2015
Look
All
|