Thursday, January 8, 2009

like the flowing river


It was me that went bouncing through the terrain

I went every place :the rocky precipice of mountains or the fertile soil of plain
nothing changed my speed
nothing changed my flow
I treated every thing with same respect



But why is this stagnation in me ?
Why is this motion sickness?
Has the erosion subsided ?
Is this the time to deposit the vast array of things i accumulated ?
Will i be reduced to a mud puddle?
Or will i be ever the flowing river again

2 comments:

Saru Singhal said...

So many questions but worth pondering...:)

Anonymous said...

This is a 'question'able poem. :P

Lol, just kidding.
Very beautiful and worth pondering upon.. Keep up the good work. :)

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The Tablet Revolutionary

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