Dec 29, 2008

walk, stoop, walk

the other side of the hill.
is the road less travelled
where sun resides forever
where haze dies,
brutally with every blink
and memories arise every
new minute.

it's where you stand alone,
unabashed
with winds and hawks
singing in a monologic delight
the space bends to you
as dreams die,
in sundry reality of life

the other side of the hill
where not many survive,
not many realise,
neither the blind nor the wise
the place called the other side

6 comments:

Amiya said...

Whoever the YOU is must be honoured,Must be ammused, Must be delighted.
At long last something from you which is simple and at once immediate.Great little girl .Carry on.

SePuLcHrE said...

the other side
love it

reminds me of one of my own piece

edson_dias said...

well written I must say, but the proble is that the people who live on the other side of the hill feel the same way as the people who live on this side. Now what is it they say about people who live on the other side of them fense? green grass or something.... ??? :-)

SePuLcHrE said...

not many realise,
neither the blind nor the wise
the place called the other side !!


got ur answer sir??

eddies said...

people who live on the other side, worry not of the people on the opposite one.

Xtr0 said...

There is no place called the other side. What we choose to see is what we see.

PS : Yeah, I know about the sudden burst of comments. It is being done on purpose.