Poetry

Deep Poetry and Fine Art

There is an art, finer
In the leaves bonded with twigs
Into small cups.
In the uneven words that read
“I love you mum and dad”
In the messy desk of the one
Who sits engrossed in a book
In the stains of milk and flour
On the apron.
And In the entangled roots of the old tree.
There is an art.

There is poetry, deeper.
In the smile of the little rag picker
After he finds a coin.
In the nonsensical stories
Of another small child.
In those ten digit numbers
Which belong to a loved one.
In the eyes of the grandmother
Who holds the new born.
And In the dancing clouds at dusk.
There is a poetry.

And there is no poetry deeper,

No art finer.


What is more beautiful than the poetry, the art, the stories which live around us and inside us, unnoticed. Even those who don’t write and don’t paint are made up of them. So, where do you find art and poetry?


Love always,

Pramegha

10 thoughts on “Deep Poetry and Fine Art”

  1. Hey Pramegha! Found you from the collab poem you did with Aquib. This poem instantly reminded me of a quote from The Alchemist, ‘All things are the manifestation of one thing only.’ Keep up the great work!

    Liked by 1 person

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