The Poetic Mind

Peeping out of my window I look at the sky
its full of clouds and birds are flying,
it brings to the life my poetic mind
deep in my heart that lives inside,
where soul is buried deep under the grave
i feel its presence, all its grace,
i keep myself busy in digging the soil
my mind is agile but kept in a foil,
i have the hope to rescue my soul
amidst so many dead who smell so foul,
like in a old church a lonely priest stays
my heart is temple, my soul there lays,
bells will be rung church will be lit
there will be enlightenment when we meet,
Sooner or later the day will come
the grave will be open my mind will be calm...