Rhythmic Reveries of a Ruminating Mind

Like the parched earth that longs for a drop of water and feels vigorous when it rains, like the scorching sun that longs for a shade for itself and calms down when evenings set in, like the broken heart that longs for healing and its wounds fill up when someone loves it again, like the infant that longs for warmth and feels secure in its mother’s arms, like all the lonely people who long for a conversation and are ecstatic when someone talks to them, like the drowning man who wants to live, and delighted even if he catches a straw, I hold on to poetry - for a drop of water, for shade, for healing, for warmth, for a conversation, for a delightful life…