The little candle eagerly waited
For the match to
Light the flame
And make its life real.
And it waitedAnd waited……
As
All the matches
Were staring at the lamp
And the wonders of electricity
Hoping they could be a
Part of thisNovelty.
Wondrous and beautiful
Full of light….
And the candle and the matches
Waitedand waited
till eternity....
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We're obsessed with not being defined. And yet we're always in search of that elusive definition that will not restrict. We're obsessed with the sublime, however ridiculous that may sound. And we like to seek it, however elusive it may seem. We're obsessed with India, for we know we can never really agree on why. The only thing that we agree on is on the right to disagree.
4 comments:
Kindly explain the cases and the wordcohorts. I am deep in in million speculations
I wish I knew enough to explain...
Its written...and here it is ..the poem..
You are free to make a million speculations...isnt that what poetry is for?
Like a verbal rorschach?What say?
Sumi,
I liked this one better than a lot of your earlier poetry -- mainly because the metaphor is so universal... yes, the more the speculations, the better, AFA i'm concerned.
keep writing,
asuph
hi sumita,
fascinating read. :)
another take on a similar topic -http://airisinthelove.blogspot.com/2006/11/candle-two-versions.html
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