Thursday, 29 September 2011

End Point


Emotions splatter across glass
Like a stream of orange street-lights
Would break into shards
As their beams smash upon
Little crystal-drops of water
Which are swept aside by the windscreen-wiper.

The mind wafts in a state of bliss,
As it recalls a perfect sunset
That is the inspiration of all life-

The verdant hues of green,
The splash of orange
A luscious crimson
And a scintillating yellow;
The soft hum of evening bird-call;
And the perfect silence of companionship.

Images in the head, already, they have become
From moments and experiences.
But they print little footsteps
In the journal of life,
And leave me, as always,
Breathless with awe.


Note: This poem is about my trip to this amazing place called End Point, in Manipal along with my cousin and his friends. Like a lot of scenic places that we tend to overlook, it was a gorgeous sight, and an even more enthralling feel. Watching the river snake by, and the orb of golden light set upon the horizon, watching it turn from sharp shades of red and yellow to the mellower tunes of pink and purple, as the light ebbed away, leaving the moon to stud the sky... The clouds moved slowly by- there was a stream of clouds that formed a wave in the sky, softening the exuberance of the sky. It left us speechless.
I wrote this poem, however, while travelling by bus from Manipal to Bangalore.

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