I used to write a lot.
I used to write so much romantic those days.
I used to think much more romantic.
I would wait, I would wish. And I would
write it all in wonderful words.
I couldn't dance. But my words would dance.
I wouldn't sing. But my poems would sing.
They flowed out of me as easily as the
sweet smell of earth after the first shower.
Earth had waited for the shower for so long.
I had too.
Now, the wait is over. The earth is no more
fragrant. Nor am I.
I have lost my words. I have lost the rhythm.
I try hard. But now words won't come to me.
The wait is now over.
Not exactly. I still wait. But this
is a different wait. This is different fragrance.
Not of the earth. Earth gave it away to flowers.
Just as my words dissolved into feelings.
No. They won't come down on paper to
dance now. I was never ugly. But now I feel
beautiful. I feel fragrant. I feel music. I feel
dance. I feel song.
But a poem would not come to me now.
The wait is over.
(dated 5th Feb 08)
