Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2012
Freedom was,  
that field of  grass, tall and verdant,
undulating rapturously,
hand in hand-
with wind's sinuous dance.

The grass hopper ruled it all,
his mind, knew limits, not once, in his life,
he was a wild horse, in the jungle of grass,
but a great  regret he had,
gnawing his heart,
like malicious cancer cells
that would eat away all his grace,
he tried and tried
but never could whistle,
not even a haunting note,
like a nightingale.


His consort would
try to soothe him, with words
"How you make me swoon,
with your soulful croon!"
his eyes would turn bloodshot,
she would then  back off,
feeling left out, not able to share pain.
" Grass hoppers  
are left with no hopes-
they are a cheated lot,
left to rot"

he audaciously believed,
his face remained  always, cadaverously grim.

A boy and a girl, who ran away together,
reached there, to escape the torturous world
tasting freedom for the first time,
stood watching the grass hopper-
with admiring eyes,
and  hope brimming in their hearts,
they were so charmed by
the green freedom he seemed to enjoy!
Here, the wind swept grasslands,
looking up to the  heavens,
were a world apart,
even the muck didn't look crude!

**"Look at that grasshopper,
bless him, how carefree, he is
I wish I could be like him"
She wistfully said.
K Balachandran
Written by
K Balachandran  Kerala, India
(Kerala, India)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems