I still don't know when I read about Rumi I think it was accidental just the way I found my way through blogosphere and I was struck by his words but I never knew one day I myself would be searching my own way out of words
I don't know how or why words why this urge to write it all on pages knowing one day I myself will be dust all I know maybe one day I will be free maybe one day I wont be trapped trying always a way to speak
I don't know where these words will reach what will be the fate but as a poet that's not my job I am meant to hold the pen not wait and watch
I don't know why this fear why the inhibition why we are scared to hold it all why we need to write why poems one by one ..
I don't know,