190. A Poet’s Magic

A magic of fluttering words
On surface of a mind’s eye
To paint sadness of birds
On silent mountains, high

A magic of thunderous thought
On surface of a wet pulsing heart
To shower words on life’s dry spot
Weaving senses in every part

A magic of a residual feeling
On surface of a lingering moment
To find words of a meaning
By corners of language unspent

A magic of a hopping spark
On surface of hot mellow fires
To shed on lives in the dark
Lighting up unwritten desires

A magic of wavy soft rhymes
On surface of a truth, divine
By wings of passionate times
Making wounds of past shine

A magic of an inclined flow
On surface of a poet’s hand
Where heaven and hell glow
As particles of wisdom on sand


5 Comments to “190. A Poet’s Magic”

  1. Reblogged this on Bharati's Pen and commented:
    when words are not there
    To describe the water or fire
    Poets magic weave one
    Fill the void
    And create such beauty divine.

  2. Very melodic, Venkat! Your verses bring a tune all their own . . . Nice!

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