Forgive my wallowing in words
my lapse is not light, words are fire,
creative use of them with more care
with out raising a curtain of smoke
and uncontrolled flames, if expected
it's only fair, not to scare you, gentle readers
unreasonably with all the  heat
it could generate.

A gentle fire, at night, a golden glow
where you would sit around
and partake my fare is what I dream.
Every word has deep roots, and laughing  flowers,
cryptic connecting codes, tunnels
that augment the flows channeled to hearts,
music that connects words, unexpected
fire works of meanings that explode,
metaphors that amble and gallop forward
with spectacular beauty, you watch
without batting an eyelid, that's what brings
clarity, and a gentle ecstasy mind licks up,
and goes to sleep purring in delight.
Signs pointing to the unknown, even unsaid
become evident, like in magic, how it unfolds
how can I say, what's the  well spring
of an oracle's revelations, amazing!

Imageries arise along the flow of creation,
evoking, love, pain, hope or remorse-
whatever feeling that invades human psyche,
that demands an immediate emotional response,
and from there leads to catharsis, mind's elation.

Taking you to the forest route of words,
- that blankets and blocks the view
of elegant trees, you love to look at
and to forget everything
for some moments, at least -
was my fault, I was carried away,
**yes, I should learn to control my excesses.