Mistakes were made
That have led me to
Suffer so much
Have I learned any lesson?
Time will tell
Joy of being free
Destroying the nests
Empty cup
Crafting new Cups
Betrayed again
The brim by the storm
In the tea cup
Or the cracks in the china
By which the potter had made the cup
Time and again
Potter has tried
To build
Cups that will
Stand the heat and the cold
But then
May be
After a while
Each of his creation gets
Caught
In the trivial pursuit of
Now
And immediate
May be
The potter should stop
Crafting cups
And use curved leAves
May be
May be not
May be he should try afresh
With new clay
And new moulds
May be
I fail again
I have often wondered
Why do I fail in sculpting
A form
That defies
Easy definition
Trapped in mediocrity
Will I give up
No, how could
A boatm man leave
The search for wood which
Will make a boat that
Can survive storms
And many storms
broken mirrors
truth wasn’t so difficult
but i was willing to live with less
but then
not everyone can lie
so more became imperative
limits were reached rather quickly
there are many ways in which one can go
you chose the way
lighted
by the pieces of broken mirrors
mounted on the lamp posts all along the way
Faith
Wind is still
munificence of meanings
the meanings went astray
as i sat
quietly
over the stone
a big dark one
near the placid lake
having a few trees
heavily laden with creepers
some having nest of weaver birds hanging on many branches
soaking moist breeze under the shade
your munificence has surpassed my ability to hold
why are you then so cold