Has the ego drenched
arrogance strutting peacockien fool
not been ranting at something
endlessly,and not moved an inch
from where it cried its first call ?
The musical out pours,
the painterly and sculptorly catwalks,
and finally the roving on the landscapes of paper sheets
on the wheels of these pens and pencils-
has it all led to any distance been covered ?
Or has been just the rowing of the oars
while the boat was still tied at the ignorant shore !
Open oh Lord, I implore
open the knots invisible to the blind eyes
of the ranting fool..
sprinkle just some more illumination
to the path that leads to where heads the final