They usually respond by the gentle rustle of their leaves. For the wind, in a clear exhibit of its childishness, always tries to orchestrate our conversation! And somewhere deep within, my spirit dances to the rhythm of the waves. Their erratic moods are sometimes difficult to adapt to, but it their willingness to listen that overwhelms me. And there, in the towering night when I speak to my chosen star, I cannot help noticing that the many others around it have been listening too. Then that ‘something’ that is stretched over the cosmos that immediately identifies with me. Even though I never gave it a call... * Sometimes we celebrate my victories by dining together in the open night. And when I see life for what it is not, they cry to keep me company, but more so, to make me understand that it is quite unnecessary. ...
U r inspired. By new ideas. U r different. Because of the poetry u 'think'. U r created again. By challenges. U r me, Adhaa.