“I had heard sometimes <br />The frivolous whispers <br />Of the wind, when it breathed <br />Carelessly in the quiet freedom <br />Of unpopulated still valley. <br /> <br />I had touched the skin <br />of moonlight with my palm, <br />While chasing fire flies <br />On a tranquil full moon night <br /> In the paddy fields of my village <br /> <br />I had lent my heart’s ears <br />To the revelling poppy buds <br />Dauntlessly asserting their <br /> Individuality in the orchard <br />Rich with swarming variety, <br /> <br />I had seen through the groggy <br />Eyes of earth, the visible <br />Beauty of this brisk cosmos. <br />When early dews rinsed my face, <br />On a freezing winter morn. <br /> <br />I had heard the screams <br />Of hunger, seen famine of words, <br />And parched lifeless thoughts <br />When an emotional drought <br />Paralyzed my vigorous mind <br /> <br />I had seen with my inert eyes <br />The birth of a tender dream, <br />Youth of a private desire <br />And death of an aged love, <br />From a stone bench in the Leisure Park of life! ! !<br /><br />Seema Aarella<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/story-of-stillness/
