The “Lost” Large In Less

By Kuldeep Rai

There is this sad surplus inside us, that is raw,

To bake, "that" would be easy,

To "mould" would be a crime,

Whithin or without, the sad never makes a sound,

And sadly that sound is so full of sense,

There is always the "hello" of joy,

There is again the "good morning's" of lull souls,

Forking sights and pretentious looks,

And ironically we are surprised to why?

The forest calls and we think of wood and plank,

The garden yields and we look for pearls in pond,

The rain flows and we can only think of rainbows,

There is this sad surplus inside us, that is raw,

Where water is everywhere but all we seek is a filter,

Where wild petals bloom all around but we seek the potted paints,

And sadly that sound is so full of sense,

Of sad surplus within broken souls,

Of everything everywhere and finding nothing,

Of the many worlds lost in lifetimes , where a moment can define a life worthy of this world,

The last of the leaves shall give way for new,

The few drops of dew will play their part,

The many moons will define and redefine,

The last of us that roam this earth,

And ironically we are surprised to why?

As to why? we could not get the “right”,

in the raw essence ,Of less is large .....

By Kuldeep Rai