Drifting in the regions of mind deeper and deeper
Encountering untouched and unexplored thoughts
Rising and falling like sand dunes of Sahara
I imagine myself alone in the desert
Watching nervously at the horizon the edge called year 50th
The sights of endless sand like the sight of my fears and hopes.
Empty nest has left me scrambing like a little child
Stumbing at an Easter egg hunt
Obsolete patterns of life
Leveled by the whirling wind of time
I tap the substratum for a new mosaic
Sorting impressions like
Retrieving water from a soaked kitchen sponge
Recycled thoughts springing back with a squeeze
Yes I am a drifter in the world of shapes and thoughts and forms
Trying to hold on to something
Because standing alone is hard.

Savita Tyagi