We live amongst we live with countless impulses
We are not every one of them but are surrounded
We go for solitude and drop on some expression
The expressions are countless impulses
Hardened, sharpened, rational, impulsive impulses
Just like waves in an ocean
We go for totality, try to stretch out to something beyond
We go for the existence itself
And the irony, we stuck at the word,
If lucky, on the most beautiful impulse
We are stuck with ‘all of us’…
We are stuck with the geometry, with the physics
A beautiful image, finitude,
art stretching its ambitious wings
Stuck with the immense power to create
Stuck with the immense capacity to express
Stuck with the blind stretching wing
Hopeless it may seem to someone
But to some it also may liberate
The purpose, the finitude, the end, the aim
The stretch
Hopeless is ‘the stretch’
This may liberate..
Stretch of an eagle wing will never cover the sky
But an embrace with open arms might
