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Wondering at It

Wondering at It

  - Jernail Singh Anand (India)


Many times it happens

I feel a breath close to

my head

Someone just stops


Of whispering into my



Then I look around I

was alone

But who made me

write what I did

And who made me


What I wrote?


For nothing, they fly

into my mind

And start hanging

From the branches of

my thoughts

And make bedlam

playing with the leaves


Demanding of me to

create a nest for them

Of images and


In which they could


And then at will fly out

and in.


To my written work

when I

Return my gaze

I wonder if it was I

Who created this