Thursday, 13 November 2008

poem


at the farthest end of the corridor
a door opens.

light skids down the floor
like skaters exploding a silent slope.

words vanish to open a void
i freeze…

the strains of a poem trip lightly in.

*****

4 comments:

kochuthresiamma p .j said...

lovely!!!

P. Venugopal said...

Thanks.

balachandran v said...

Thats it!! Thats the way the dam bursts... the loveliest moment is when one watches the last drops trickle away...

P. Venugopal said...

Yes, it's about the moment when it happens, when that immensity starts flowing in. How I wish I could recapture truely what happens then, now and again. But when the agenda of recapturing comes, it just slips away and it is like going stone blind when Jesus Krishna reveals himself to you.