An outlet to the magic world Through which we see wonder We see what we oblige to see You like , it doesn’t matter. Passing by the road is a gal As if come from nowhere A bunch of roses in hand For whom, it doesn’t matter. A quarrelling couple riding His face is red with anger She crying on the way For what, it doesn’t matter. A mother and her cute child Smiling and giggling always Happy for no reason at all You know, it doesn’t matter.
Poet’s note – “If it’s reality you want, I suggest you look out the window.”― Peter Stamm, All Days Are Night
This road trip to moon will not end through the shards of shattered, small prints of sleep. A ravaged nest lived behind tomorrow in necklace of past apologies. Hanging by fan was ending of today. We talked of dirty nights
(1) Tents are crowded by windows, but missing walls and a jasmine flower. (2) A window is a border between consciousness and sub-consciousness, between Ego and its annihilation. (3) A home without a window is a blind man with no
“Innocence looks through a window of crystal clear glass, there is no reflection, just perfect vision of clarity….. For it is through the eyes of a child that truth is captured, no shadows of grey…just pure simplicity. A child’s soul