Branches

For the very first time, I am allowing my own voice to sound the Poem I wrote for the world. For those who do not have the time to read my words, can now hear it from the composer.

Do let me know if you liked it as much as I did composing it.

Listen to know…know to read

 

While I carved life on the canvas,

A beguiling form started to emerge.

Haywired but pristine to look at,

Many lines did while many didn’t converge.

Upon completion I took a few steps back,

And gazed at a multi-coloured tree.

Each branch with its own demeanour,

That only the carver would see.

Each chapter of ours created a branch of its own,

Some ended, some persisted, and some awaited.

Each with soft sweet fruits or white harsh stones,

For us to taste as life advocated.

Haywired but pristine is what I saw,

Because each branch had a beautiful outline.

Good ones were good and bad ones weren’t flawed,

In the end, every chapter turned out just fine.