In the flow and flaw of the magnificent language, what I feel…, why I feel…
On the wings of Poetry
I flutter and fly like a butterfly
To see the beauty that surrounds me
In its utmost softness of silk
To feel the tenderness of ecstasy
Poetry is nothing but language of the heart. Every person who can think logically and listen to the heart beat can emotionally express feelings of love, hate, compassion, anger, feel and hurt balance system.
Writing poetry is like nourishing a garden where we sow seeds of thoughts, which sprout with the input of efforts when nourished with attentive seasoning. It is only then that the colorful ideas blossom with fragrance. The sown speechless thoughts take the support of words to find expression, they grow and mature as saplings, start whispering and walking. Still the fact remains unchanged that ‘Life is poetry but poetry is not life.’ Words and poet have a co-relative bond. Words may exist without a writer, but a writer cannot exist without words. Poetry in form of words on paper is nothing but the fruit of thoughts that can find expression in the flow and flaw of the language of the heart.
Every person is a born talented artist. One being a painter, other being a journalist, yet another, a sculptor and the next one a poet. The sculptor chips the hard rock and turns it in fertile model of his imagination, carving to the finest core of the hardened rock to replicate tenderness and beauty. An artist uses rainbow colors to bring to life the characters that he imagines to be breathing on his canvas. Similarly a poet uses fine words with or without rhyme and rhythm to express his own feelings. In a way a poet's imagination through words begins to breathe, creep, dance, and flutter like a butterfly so that it can rhyme with nature that is so beautiful, so lively and so unique, where the thought are so beautifully woven in a majestic flow of ripples:
Like a grand river of light
A needle’s orifice
It is the language of the heart that has been put in finite words to express the infinite experiences, human sentiments and true feelings of joy, sorrow, grief, misery, ignorance, greed, loneliness, love and hatred, but the unspoken compassion always supersedes the circumference of spoken language. Writing poetry is my passion, in fact Poetry is the music of the heart that is sung in silence and is heard with the ears of consciousness as a silent whisper without any language barriers. As I see …
you see with eyes of faith
the unseen world within you
opens the gates for you to a new world.