Not Someplace or Somewhere

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Not someplace or somewhere

Do we ever find home.

Never by words and schemes

Do we ever find love.

Home is a lifetime

And love is a traveller on a course to you.

Dates, wines and jingling bells

All are nothing but summer dew

For from nights to nights and coming falls 

The heart still longs for someone due.

Who else knows of the muse and tales

That accompany a broken heart

That awaken the memories of the first moonlight

And are stalking reflexions of the gone sunshine.

                                                          M. V. Echa 

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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!