11/23/2014

RELATION

Without a reader, both poetry and poet are half complete. Reading is a medium, beautiful, that makes me an essential part of the two.

While reading Gibran two days ago, I came across a stanza which I highlighted on second reading with a sketch pen. I re-read and smiled. It related me somehow.

“ He is a solitary figure,
Robed in simplicity and kindness;
He sits upon the lap of Nature to draw his inspiration,
And stays up in the silence of the night,
Awaiting the descending of the spirit.”
‘The Poet’      ( Book 8:  A Tear And A Smile )

Though I remain mingled among my companions for most of the time, yet the final hour of the night reduce me to a lone individual, cut off from my friends;

And that I am simple, kindness is also my trait for I never knew to be a species of a high fashioned class;

It was and is the Nature only, my Mother dear, from whom I seek consolation and inspiration as well;

As poetry is a natural song of spontaneity, its birth waits for no proper time. So I remain wakeful every silent hour, alert, lest the beautiful examples of life pass me without my noticing

And aware, only when the weary mind is conceived of beautiful imageries and soothing sound of the perched train of words within me that the silent hours of benediction has been blessed. 

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