Sometimes I woke up and don’t find the room where I used to live for almost my whole childhood. My mom, calling my name saying “wake up son” at least a dozen times before I actually listened to her. So I tried to jot down the emotions I go through with the following words:
The dreams were just finished
My eyes struck back to consciousness
And my sleep was over
The sleep was lovely and deep
MY body was feeling rested.
I have found a new love proliferating from the nucleus of my mind,
describing a scene transposed onto a visible plane
to linger to last breath,
a vision marking the beginning of my journey.
I love the wind as it blows through the trees
the rustle of fall leaves sets me free.
The miracle that is placed before me grandiose,
effervescent, I am at peace, savoring this banquet.
Feeling delight, my senses reel, the pure mountain air,
moistened by snow packed peaks,
mingles flavors to connect with each
creating a appetizing mixture,
ingested with each breath I take.
The “whys” of life are many and some unanswerable. Entertainment in films and other forms of arts make life vivid and more thrilling for all to see. We, as humans express ourselves in different ways like poetry. And like the many forms of being creative, poetry endures time, and speaks of life yesterday, today and tomorrow.
When I was younger, I could find happiness in scribbling words. I was not really aware how grammar rules were complied with because I was not a native speaker of English. Yet, my earlier poems were in the second language. I loved my native tongue and my second language, as well.
