How to write...

leaving all dream outside the garden of thought
focusing on the spell ' how to write...'
engrossed the soul each day to wake up  and sleep
inside the boring net of ' how to write'

if this will be the fate of a soul with great wish to be a writer,
century will pass, civilisation just burst and fade away
with smiling mock
the soul will never be a writer.

ah!
amid the swirling passion
the path here is the moments of glory,
open to all
for taking a generous flight,
may be a minute is enough in the coffee house
or under the shadow of coconut tree
enough is there in the chirping nature
to look and paint your canvas with pleasurable colours,
none here to break your cosmic dance
you are welcome for deep penance...

now you discover your heart bleeding
the creativity
passionate,
a friend like,
for your pleasure and deserted silence.