With rocks, you never can tell.
With rocks, you never can tell.
Solid and unobtrusive,
a brooding, hulking presence,
over the horizon.
yet a cold rock may
Hide within itself,
a fire.
On eruption it consumes
All in it’s wake,
leaving behind
devastation and
burnt land.
With rocks, you never can tell.
Sometimes, an angel hides
inside a rock,
Waiting for
a sculptor's probing gaze
to release
his trapped soul.
With rocks, you never can tell.
5 comments:
quite true!
u seem to be born artist from within!
lovely poem!
This is a very thoughtful and thought-provoking poem and well-done on such a fine piece of work.
You are certainly enhancing your writing repertoire, experimenting with so many various thoughts and styles. Which is a real treat for readers like me, who love and follow your work :)
Thank you amit.
Quicksilver, glad you like :)
-s
brilliant poem!!!!!!!
Ajita
lovely poem...I think this is one of my favourites from ur collection....thought provoking indeed.....I have so much to learn from you!!!! :)
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