The canvas and fillers

 

If this silence of the mind

Were blank as a fresh canvas

And our control on the mind

Like a tightly held brush

Could modulate what we think

Then the verses would spark

Thoughts of profound beauty

Ideas that would erupt petals

Both fragrant and spectacular

Which the thorns would adorn

With bland leaves for contrast..

The silence of the marine mind

Would be filled incessantly by waves

Plunging into a crescendo

Well tuned orchestrated thoughts

Often rising to absolute silence

Like a instant between two heartbeats

To pump thr passion within soul.

How come despite this notion

The colors often get smudged

Beyond the unavailable corners

And overlap on the canvas

To eventually vex our soul?

 

Delhi

2060

21.04 hrs

19.4.23