Into A Poet's Mind

Sometimes I hope to hop into a poet's mind

To decode the umpteen thoughts that traverse inside,

Some expressed in verses, some in phrases or prose,

Some seated deep, in the impenetrable layers of flesh and blood;

I hope to read those intricate phrases,

Shoved away for reminiscence in the solitary hour,

When the heart and mind alone have a rendezvous.

Piqued I am to learn the pain behind his smile,

The laughter in his cry, and

The clamor in the quiet.

Amazed I am by a poet's words that deeply describe a prosaic affair,

And emanate a profound meaning that permeates a human soul.

Often I wonder, if words ceased to exist, would he choose the brush,

To paint the tainted image of all his sour endurance?

Or would he hide in those undiscovered sites,

And perish alive than dead?

But for as long as his words remain,

A poet's mind can amaze the amazed,

Cheer the depressed,

And amuse the rational.