You start typing on a blank screen
the mind is also blank
then when the first word is typed
it is like a pen torch light
a ray that goes and dies in infinity

From there comes the second word
and the third and so on.

That absolute unpredictability
and a beautiful process
I don’t know where it takes me
I don’t care if the finished product is good
I don’t think if the destination is pretty

I am only focussed on the process

The process of letting me wander
through a new forest everyday
with thoughts flowing like rivers
and words as stones
on which I step
walking over my own thoughts

I can’t even call it a poem
I call it my version of a poem
It is just a reflection of my journey
in the stream of thoughts beneath
as I leave foot prints on the words
I step on them and cross…

It is never good or bad or great
it is just what I am able to produce
when left free to be who I am

-Vinod-

Categories: National Poetry Month, Poetry

Tags: National Poetry Month, poem, Poetry, Poetry Project