O boatman! Sail me to thin line afar
Where last glimmers of dying day
Slip into vacuity of a blurred ocean;
I will carry my destiny there.
I will not dream;
I will only sleep.
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Death—premature or likely, accidental or natural—always leaves an impervious void in souls of those near ones where gentle tunes of ...
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Where, so far and afar, does my soul wander in pursuit of Those tunes of thy flute that lets the breeze moan? Where does to an alien plac...
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This is a repost originally published two years back on the 35th death anniversary of my dear mom.... "Mother, I shall weave a chain...
That's a short and sweet thought, you have a wonderful poetic sense.
ReplyDeleteMuch appreciated, Kanika !
ReplyDeleteahh really nice!
ReplyDeletea worth having sleep.. one with no dreams..
very nice :)
ReplyDelete