In Meditation

Many words, words, a word,

No words, some words in flood

In my capacious brain

In a very tidy frame

Scattered like zillion stars

Moving randomly without bars

That bounce, pounce and thud like a drum

And they crash violently when they bump

And every word flows through my vein

That makes the hand move towards the pen,

While body uncomfortably sits unmoving

While the soul of mind is singing

Sometimes in pain, sometimes in fears,

Sometimes with love, sometimes with tears

Over parchments that are designed without intervention

When words weave out through phantasmagoric imagination

That makes the pencils go blunt and ink runs out

When mind is filled with thoughts of cloud

And time slips from minutes to hours

While I live in my ivory towers

Being a recluse and in isolation,

I carve my thoughts with precision

While they wonder the look on my face

Which dreads them these days

When many words, words, a word,

No words, some words create flood.