Me, Myself

April 1, 2020

Napowrimo Day-1

I am a poem, a poem of metaphors

metaphors unique, metaphors black and white

metaphors strange and mysterious

as in the silent whispers of myriad earth

I travel beyond yonder

caressing cascades of years

in frozen trepidations…

torso in quest, inquisitive

delving chasms

in languid rhythms of self.

Lessons learned

with fragile feathers

sinews solid as steel in sullen moments,

still life brews in tantrums of bubbles,

I push myself in eternal perpetuity

countenance benign

on water droplets of rain

so my tears merge as a deluge.

I see lucidly roses parallel thorns

sands of dreams could etch realities,

quintessential quests beat quarantines

of wisdom.

Cues and clues creepily converge

between the edges of life and death,

I move on like passing clouds

inspiring, aspiring within.

I am a poem, a poem of metaphors,

a metaphor of metamorphosis.

April 1, 2020

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