We are just a medium
transmitting the music
and echoes
of a time, a space
the scent of an era
the flavour of an age
woven into rhythmic tales
pressed into a page
bound into books
released into streams of words
meandering towards an unknown place
often reaching a shore
after the writer has said his final grace
Is there a dawn to bring about a condensation
Of evaporated thoughts?
Will the potent words set free come back to earth
to shadow other unwary beings with porous souls
hitting on them with images
agitating un-lived, coded memories
churning a new poet into existence
yet again?
©Reena Prasad
Well structured.. and a neat elaboration on poets ourselves.. now..where do poems come from ..? A question to ask ourselves ..does it emerge from the soul or mind…? Or is it deep rooted somewhere else..hidden/ veiled and unveiled or unleashed, when ? How? And why? …answering them is emancipation in itself…u ve tried answering many such mysteries… keep up the good work….
Thank you Mohamed Umar Farooq for the feedback and the wishes.