The Empty Room

Trees. Birds. Flooding showers.
Lakes. Rivers. Blooming flowers.
What makes?

Life. Death. Tangled vines
Love. Hate. Aging lines.
What makes?

Space. Time. Silent rhymes.
You. Me. The world sublime.
What makes?

What makes a room empty?
What makes a room?
What makes?

Note: Written a few months back for one of the Serene Woods' Writers' Meets, this piece was lost in the deluge of unfinished, unpublished drafts in my computer and I only discovered it today. Although I'd leave the interpretation of this to my readers (as I do with all my works), I have but one thing to say. Read it not once, but twice. For there is more to it than meets the eye.



Simple words and great insightful meaning...that's what makes poetry such a good stage to showcase the hidden picture! totally loved this one... :)
It's only when u create a bridge between the two extremes, that you realize there are so many questions to be asked!
simply beautiful :D

aupsy said...

I like the idea. Everything that fills up our heart, is somehow obviously responsible for its emptiness - love, hate, life, death... and yet there's no life without either of them. What makes? Everything that left the room makes :)

Romeo Das said...

Nicely put forward. Enjoyed reading your post! :)

By the way, hope you enjoy reading my post too -
To hold you in my arms, to promise you my love!