It is not that morning frame of sunshine
or the reflex of dawn I missed
but a dew dropp in my palm from
a lotus leaf,
not the axis on which earth rolled I crave for
but the soft fragrance of earth on my breath
from a riverside
It is not the masked mountains I longed for
but a tiny friendly hill on which I can climb
and clasp in hand a few rain clouds
It is not the storm perplexed me but the fire
from a silent forest and in one moon blank
day my thoughts clamped on the swings
of my mind and assured me that it is
only a tidal wave and not the end of earth...
3/3/2009
Rema Prasanaa
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/not-the-end-of-earth/
