wish
i wish i could disappear
with as much grace,
as the bud that disappears
when the petals bloom.
i wish i could disappear
like the mist over the mountains,
soft footed, careful
not to disturb anything.
i wish i could disappear
like the twinkle of a star,
and leave no trace
so morning comes unblemished.
i wish i could disappear
with as much relief,
like the last knowing breath
so efficient death can step gently.
with as much grace,
as the bud that disappears
when the petals bloom.
i wish i could disappear
like the mist over the mountains,
soft footed, careful
not to disturb anything.
i wish i could disappear
like the twinkle of a star,
and leave no trace
so morning comes unblemished.
i wish i could disappear
with as much relief,
like the last knowing breath
so efficient death can step gently.
Labels: poetry
Selected by manisha lakhe |
23:12 |
5 Comments:
Manisha, why do u say the bud disappears?
Though it opens up its petals, it remains a
bud all right... my little girl when she
becomes an adolescent will not disappeared,
she would have metamorphosed, transformed,
into a bigger version. Just a name...
Ooh, nice.... the bud disappearing when the petals open into a flower... mist leaving nothing disturbed...
never thought of it that way before. but i guess part of being a writer means seeing things differently. thank you... :)
the grace of a bud blossoming into a flower where the bud no longer lives but is lost within the new body. Like the slow yellow of leaves which make the greens dissappear as fall comes round the corner.
try lying on the sides of the hills around pune and you will realise the magic of the sun which gently wipes away the misty air and the blue sky arrives
manisha, you captured the mood very well.
Critically, I can't say much. I refuse, or rather my mind refuses to read this poem as a writer. I'm just content being the audience and sharing your thoughts. A wonderful idea to write a poem on! I agree with Annie: no one can think like a writer can.
beautiful. The wish to dissappear disturbing nothing...is the one thought that stays. wonder how this would be if all the other analogies were stripped off and only this thought remains as naked as it is.
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