Sonnet to Thoreau
Methinks, that bright blue star yonder in sky Twinkles forever smirking at my soul, The fiery black thunder when storm comes by, Frightens my mind for thoughts I never stole. The might of the mountains standing so high, Make me panic for my lack of hard goal. Perchance, the adept breezes willfully try To disclose my best kept corner-and-hole Causing apprehension as to imply And leaving nothing for me to console My despair'd heart, so inclined to cry, Desolate, desperate like a tadpole Wishing to become a lotus in pond Aloof and free from relation and bond. P.Siddartha Oct,2004.