bicycleofthoughts

There has been a lot of time since my last post which isn’t actually a poem. A poem serves no purpose. It is an easier to gulp down the emotions. It seems like I put in some work while creating some rhymes but the truth is, rhymes are way easier than writing something with a little weight. This makes me think that my poems are a cop out. Easier to write. Seems more impressive. Kind of satisfies my inner itch that I have not been writing much. I want to. always. But creativity only stems from consumption. And my consumption for the last couple of years has actually been minimal by my standards. I have ideas but when the time comes to pan them out, they wither like a little flower in the desert. There is no water to make it grow. The soil it grows on has no nutrients. It’s almost torture. But to the desert, the flower is a prized possession. It has put in so much love and effort just to put out a small beauty. While it may not compare to the lushful gardens that others may possess objectively, but it certainly holds more value in the heart of the desert. But these flowers wither. Similar greenery appears once in a while and suffers the same fate. The only hope is that one day, a plant will appear and it will be strong enough to survive. Strong enough to take over the desert. Beautiful enough to make the desert happy and proud.

The desert, however, does not settle. The desert always wants more. Just because there is one beautiful masterpiece, the desert will think to create more. It’s not in the desert’s character to stop. The desert will sit for a moment, look over all it has achieved, feel the calmness and serenity and then stand up and move on. Who can stop the desert? Clouds? Oceans? These things will only help bring in the greenery. The desert can only get wetter and better. And even if there is no such plant ever grown, the desert will always have the dunes. Ever changing, ever bright, and ever beautiful.