Rippling the surface of the deep blue vastness
A faint stirring within grew
As a thousand raindrops beat a tattoo restless
Slowly, surely windy now
No faint stirring, but churnings abound
Relentlessly beating about the brow
A shower of hails hail the stormy storm
Crests of waves, formed white and high
Foaming, seething, wildly seeking
The ocean breaking in moans and sighs
The musky gale now faster, shrieking
The eye of the storm appears
In its inky blackness is salvation true
Not yet exhausted, but the pinnacle nears
Taut is every nerve and sinew
And at its peak, silence is all
Pure bliss achieved, euphoria floods
The last crescent waves gently fall
And the sun rises... red as blood.
ma kasam kya poem likhhi hai (agar kahin se taapi nahi hai to )..... aadhe words to mujhe samajh hi nahi aaye aur baaki aadhon se pata hi nahi chala ki poem mein kya likha hai.... but i know that the poem is very nice ... good work
ReplyDeletedekh main aajkal kitna vella hoon ki tera blog bhi padh raha hoon :(
ReplyDeletemeri calories tujhe lag jayein..
ReplyDeletesilence never says, whether it was before or after the storm. and thus i am scared of it. Its the storms that i feel comfortable with. Atleast you know for sure it will accompany destruction.
ReplyDeleteAwesome... nice description of growing intensity of wind and its effect on deep blue ocean as poem unfolds...
ReplyDelete