Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Hardeep Sabharwal.

This year I met a guy
In the same old mirror
Who boasted of becoming
Imago from larva
Showing wings of flight
Same footpaths and same sleepers
Just with a curious new smile
And a vision which took
All the old color patterns
into a new dimension
Like a brush of magic
That can paint even dreams you know
Just then he saw
A grey haired shadow
As if it were his clone
Walking ahead and ahead
But still at the same place
And suddenly the clone shadow
Become ubiquitous
And the grey colored over shadowed
the colors of dreams
He shouted, how can I?
Become a part of this,
And the matrix of life smiled .


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