Blank pages can also narrate a tale,
Vacant hours too can cast a spell.
Some watch the waves on shore,
Not all get a chance to sail.
Can't always weave words with tunes,
Some thoughts stay numb in the heart,
But think not less of these moments,
Their anonymity does plays a part.
The warp of life may be filled with glory
But the weft of triviality too has a role,
When you can't hold stars in your palms
Do feel sun kissed earth with your soles.
A day you may find your path is clear,
On another, you run into shackled gates.
What Milton said was right,
They also serve who wait.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem