Journey

Face towards the horizon
a bird flies high
to drink from
the ocean of the blue.
Pushing forth
with all the might.
Tricking itself
into some unforeseen moves.
Feeling the pulse of its desire.
Dreaming a dream.
The place
where horizon’s feet
seemed to set
is erased as it reaches there.
Begins afresh.
Begins once more.
Unable to erase itself
the stupa of longing in it,
unable to push into oblivion
the gravity of the horizon,
the beauty of the blue,
the bird is left afloat
The bird is left
flying on an endless
journey.

©Mukul Dahal, 2005

Email: mukulnp@hotmail.com