Amidst all the drama of passions and tendencies,
Yet, I thought to speak of beauty,
Knowing perfectly well,
That every word a distortion,
Every expression miss-expressed,
As if the beauty resides for who’s present,
And absent in the memory and imagination,
For what’s worth in the subjectivity of definition?

The mystery of the unexpressed,
Will sustain its nature,
And all attempts have gone in vail,
To understand what’s hidden in creation.

Speaking of beauty,
Is alike reaching the Himalayas,
Savoring the aroma, dancing with the mist,
And caging in a box,
Dead words and fresh air,
For the one’s below you,
To taste and smell,
And make impossible attempt,
To get the flavor.



P.S: Thank you and deep gratitude for reading my poem. It’s a newly discovered talent in me, maybe not rhyming and good enough, but I found poetry is the best medium to express our emotions. And that’s the reason I started writing them, it frees up my mind, relaxes me, and the creative expression is deeply fulfilling. I mostly write with my feelings and experience, and not to fill the word limit, so have to include these lines in every poem as they are shorter than one one-fifty words to publish.

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