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A poem is born through its creator, the poet. Here the poem is persistent like a child, till the poet and the poem become one. Here’s a tribute to poems on the World Poetry Day, by Anumita, in Different Truths.
Half-way down the stairs, I saw a small poem
Tiptoeing around it I go,
A tug. A pause. I look.
Tiny worded fingers clutching my skirt
Emoting eyes says, “Where do you go”
“Work of the world I have,” my voice whispers
The poem grows few more words
It reaches its hands out
A persistent child it is
Reaching down, I ruffle few letters
Smile. Kiss the expanse of space.
Walk away towards my world
Reciting my footsteps comes poetry
Following my path
Never beside nor before, just behind
Lyrical, musical, and emotional
It keeps its verses flowing
Rebuke on my lips I turn
The poem has changed
Curling around my feet
It sends words of warmth through me
I bend down and watch
Gather the words in my arms
Nuzzle the poem
Let it sink into me.
I live it within me every day
The persistent Poem
The defiant words and verses
The emotions of the deep
The memories of each throbbing moment
I am the Poem.
©Anumita Chatterjee Roy
Photos from the internet.
#WorldPoetryDay #Poem #Poetry #Verse #Poet #DifferentTruths
