Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Sushant Thapa


As I ask the evening
my prayers to heal
I am like a moth circling
the white bulb of never dying pain
Someone will pass by and
switch the bulb off.
Sometimes, the sunshine
does not glow;
I am left untouched by it.
The moon hides its cascades
I recollect the lingering and
perpetual darkness makes my shadow run
abandoning the body.
I haven’t learn to rest without the shadows
That blackness, is it a soul or a different
Speaking inside the mind of
enduring absence.
Expression is only a way to figure out
where to hide.
The world takes plenty of seriousness
and makes a joker out of it
and learns to laugh.
The act is thought again
from a circling perspective.


Canopy of Remembrance

Nests that warm
Always know about the fall.
They stare against the breeze.
Houses rest the mindless heavy bodies
Revolving tornadoes swept by the comfort
Are locked inside the cupboard of regular visits
The doors and windows open and shut each day
Clothes do not hide the spot in the eye
The world also wears a form of reflecting mirror.
Clothes of glasses and mirage walk on the sleeping bend of the road.
Destination is only a new mirror to again notice the gap in life.
What lies ahead is perhaps a new colour
Waiting to mingle and truly fade away someday.
Bubbles of boiling dreams
Do wait to fly and engulf the sky.
Memories question the darkness
Pain forgets its way and changes to passion.
Shadows answer in togetherness
The tale of seashores and washed stones
Building a canopy of remembrance.


lost and found

a story you never know
takes your grip and
makes you riddle the life.
mind and medication
heal today somehow
only, what is lost
is spiritual.
heart and heaven
place the space
for steps in life.
a firmament can shine
without the stars
if the look is not lost.


Ending Propensity

Felt like living
In the breeze.
A treasure dove sails in
The river of feathery survival
Learning is never enough to swim
But to always learn ways to fly.
Quite different treats the life
In day to day exhortations
Calling the name of life
Playing the game of lose and win to thrive
Recalling the act of art again
To tear, cut and join the page of belonging.
Each eyes glow, hide and cast
The look of near ones
Also strange faces speak to these eyes
Near and distant
Soaked in
Dreams and dilemmas
Rising and seeing the footsteps
Print in the journey of the forever ending propensity.

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