Life = Death - Volume 4 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

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4. SOMETHING THAT POURS FROM THE HEART 

 

Poetry is something as mystical as the mountains; shimmering majestically on the rivers in diffused beams of brilliant Sunshine,

 

Poetry is something as astonishing as the glittering gold biscuits entrenched deep beneath earth; emanating a profound glow that blended poignantly with the

atmosphere,

 

Poetry is something as ingratiating as the hissing serpent; deluging the morbid ambience around with overwhelming exhilaration,

 

Poetry is something as ravishing as the blossoming petals of rubicund rose; wafting its essence ubiquitously through all continents of this colossal Universe,

 

Poetry is something as grandiloquent as the incredulously embellished castle; offering an abode to anyone afflicted by inexplicable distress,

 

Poetry is something as vivacious as the magnificently swirling ocean; with each of its tangy waves fulminating into a blanket of pungent froth,

 

Poetry is something as magnanimous as the clouds; which bless the parched soil and ground with torrential showers of mesmerizing rain,

 

Poetry is something as resplendent as the fathomless rainbow; dissipating into vibrant shades of magnificently animated color,

 

Poetry is something as exuberant as the cheekily dancing peacock; incarcerating millions in its stupendously enamoring swirl,

 

Poetry is something as innocuous as the new born infant; touching the hearts of even the most diabolical with irrefutable ardor,

 

Poetry is something as soft as voluptuously woven pure silk; exquisitely binding every religion prevalent on this planet,

 

Poetry is something as ingenious as the bubbling buds of mushroom; evolving into celestial sprouts of wonderful white,

 

Poetry is something as invincible as immortal love; not bound by any spurious intricacy of the monotonous outside world,

 

Poetry is something as flamboyant as the fiery Sun; diffusing its sweltering rays to stringently sizzle even the tiniest nook and cranny of this globe,

Poetry is something as sweet as delectable crusts of brown chocolate; arousing the most dormantly dead senses in the body, with unprecedented amounts of

rejuvenated vigor,

 

Poetry is something as exotic as the alluring dancers nimble footsteps; that keep reverberating for times immemorial; even after she relinquished to perform,

 

Poetry is something as sacrosanct as the holistic cows pearly milk; paving a path of impeccable truth in whosoever who fervently witnesses it,

 

Poetry is something as thunderous as the cyclonic sandstorm; which swept incessantly with passionate strokes every day across the boundlessly

barren deserts,

 

Poetry is as swarming as the rambunctious beehives; occupied by countless bees indefatigably busy in spinning tons of golden honey,

 

And for me poetry is entirely independent of rhyme; meter; structure; mending; tailoring; crisping; written in the most incredulous forms possible; irrespective of age; language; caste; creed or race; O! yes poetry for me is something that pours

directly from the heart.