My thoughts

Words are few or too many

My thoughts are costlier than a penny

They follow the dictates of my heart

Of myself, they are a vital part

 

Higher than clouds, my thoughts do soar

Of my basic ideas, they form the core

Pinned to the ends of rainbows of gold

They rise to great heights, in silence, untold

 

Round they whirl with the wind and the rain

Cyclonic in their strength like Wyatt’s Hurricane

In the eye of the storm is comparative calm

I live them all, without any qualm

 

My thoughts, in actions, I strive to turn

In the midst of a lot of heart-ache and heart-burn

The wisdom I gain is a costly one

It is no mere jaunt of unrestrained fun

 

The doubt always rises: Have I done enough

Have I yet proved my innermost stuff

Doubts give rise to doubts, thought to thought

Between complacency and energy a battle is fought.

 

These thoughts were born along with me

And nurtured by me, with the greatest care

With respect for their various salient points

To voice them, in public, I did dare.

 

Their repayment to me with now be tenfold

They will take me beyond the pot of gold

For only by expressing them can I hope my words to thrive

And after my death, like evergreen shrubs, survive