The wait like a poem hiding somewhere & l holding the stars the moon has to burn the sky has to release the colours of the dawn..

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I am stuck between the pages and the pen..the words help me cross the bridge... walk knowing at the other end there is nothing..

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I just tried to paint the colours of spring through my words.
The sky is gray outside Thad to bloom flowers.
The pages had to see the light..

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How easily we accept the changes as if it's normal it's like writing that poem which you want to hold inside or you are trying hard to rhyme..

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The colours of festival is in the air..
The search for the moon in the sky..
The fasting and feasting..
& the wait like a celebration
I soak it all in the words which write..

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Sometimes the word create is just an outlet to walk away. The word becomes a window for some..
We need to open it to embrace life again..

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Once upon a time kind of story doesn't exist still write your story experience the joy & sadness live through your poetry..

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That time of the year when poetry is celebrated everywhere how can I
hold the light within
The poems have to be there The poet has to walk within..

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For me the song of April will be different but I will write
I will trap in the colours of the day & the rhymes of the night..

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Be kind April..
Let me write poems
which will help me breathe
Be kind quietly..

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