Purple Soul

I have sworn to the rain

To trail its path in mid-September;

When the clouds are gone

And the red Sun blooms:

I will trail your paths,

On beds and falls, to perhaps find

That long dawn that calms the dew.

I’m a purple soul, and my path is mine;

But like December never comes alone

So I make these steps for the North-East wind

That later blows and off my soul.

                                    M. V. Echa

Author’s Note: Some poets write to find that masterpiece poem or collection of poems, but some poets write to find that one line of poetry that makes sense of it all.

Poetry is the best response to this bewildered world. It is the snippet view of what’s left of our common soul. How deep it can go, no depth measures; but still we thrive, to perhaps find that sweet unfeeling that accompanies an impersonal soul.

Poetry is the way out of a gross life, even if it be for a very short while. For then we may find wholeness, or at least see the different shades of colours that make for our flowery lives.

M. V. Echa

M. V. Echa

My message is the universe, my truth is the universe, and this blog contains all you need to know about the universe, from the true nature of reality to the long-sought unity of the cosmos — which is the big picture!