The Ocean

The Ocean short poem

A raven tide
silver moonlight
scattered.
warm waves cover me 
like a blanket.
a curtain of clouds
waiting to be lifted.
waiting for the show
to begin.
the ocean calls out 
in soft whispers.
a sound no one can hear
A raven tide
a reflection 
that mattered.
somehow I can see.

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Shaurya Singh

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Shaurya Singh refuses to call himself a poet, an artist, playwright, or a filmmaker although he writes poetry, paints, writes and directs plays and also makes short films. His work also includes working closely with and coaching people who want to take charge of their lives and create the life that they desire. His vision, he says is the creation of a community of people who will passionately build an alternative lifestyle based on emerging new-age principles. He is the co-founder of Saarthak Productions, a theatre group based in Bangalore. Some of his poetry and paintings are featured on the blog A Formless Formation.
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As one reads this poem, one can hear the ocean, feel the breeze, see the curtain of clouds waiting to opening for a magic performance of nature!
@Shaurya, the images in your poem are breathtaking. You are not just a poet here, you are a painter too.

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