Saturday, September 22, 2007
A Human Aspiration
A Human Aspiration - Revelation
Simple transgressions reveal,
if you are pure or if you are not,
Unseen actions can unveil,
if you are naive and are besot.
Fickle ideas can impress,
if you are timid and are not bold,
Uncertain winds can aggress,
if you refrain from the fold.
Inane visions can inspire,
if you can see, beyond the wall,
Placid voices will retire,
if you can think, and do not fall.
I want to see,
only how far I go,
and still be me,
I want to know
only what I can do,
against the flow,
I want to be,
only till death, but,
not, only be.
I want to run,
Just look in front,
and be the one,
I want to fly,
just spread my wings,
and soar up high,
I want to live,
Just close my eyes, but,
not, just live.
In every heart on God's Green Earth,
there burns a silent fire,
there's no exception to this rule,
Its just Human to Aspire.
My First Love
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening - Robert Lee Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Way back when I was still learning to write, this was the first poem which earned my respect. To this day, I am impressed by poems both old and new but, this one stands firm in my heart. I've come across such great works as 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' by S.T.Coleridge and the many great works by Wordsworth but in spite of all their wonder, this one is my favourite.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Way back when I was still learning to write, this was the first poem which earned my respect. To this day, I am impressed by poems both old and new but, this one stands firm in my heart. I've come across such great works as 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' by S.T.Coleridge and the many great works by Wordsworth but in spite of all their wonder, this one is my favourite.
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