Quest

My search is still on, my quest is still on…
In pursuit of new images I move,
Across the silent avenues of my mind.
Now and then, searching and etching,
Few verses, bright and dark, on its sky,
With the pens of various thoughts,
The recollections of which, I try hard,
To weave them with words into a poem.
But all the while, I fail to discern,
Their true colours and contours,
And my hands tremble on empty pages,
Aching to paint the images hidden in my thoughts.

All I sketch is the same image,
Sometimes distorted, sometimes disheveled,
Sometimes in disguise and even upside down.
Swift I try to make my pursuit,
But the destinations of new images seem afar,
Every image I created so far,
With its successive shadows and repeating reflections,
Hark and reverb in multiple tones,
That search is more important that destination.
And I reflect back with a – “perhaps”,
To such a lovely lame excuse,
In yet another image, yet another poem,
Artless though, like this one,
Keeping my search on, keeping my quest on…