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