The Reason

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The quest had been for words,

for reason, for purpose ,and, the destination;

As I sit to write, I ponder,

I don’t feel the need for the quest.

 

Even without my notice,

the belief has somehow emerged;

I had always kept a green tree,

thinking that, the singing bird will surely come;

I can hear some melody somewhere;

 

Things don’t make sense all the time,

if they did, the purpose would have been defeated;

The unbecoming of what I’ve become,

only to discover the carefree joy;

 

The tiny sprout has found its way,

I wonder at seeing its victory

it has a long way to go;

Seeing it waving with the breeze,

belief gets stronger,

unknowingly, there comes a smile;

Some things have reason which reason can’t reason...