Beneath The Surface Poem by Ananta Madhavan

Beneath The Surface



Beneath the surface of the wayward thought
The mystery of meaning starts
And gathers words with half an eye on chance,
Losing the mystery at once.

Coldly the sentences are printed and
Coldly the pinioned clauses end;
There are no words to say the things I want
So much to say and can't.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Written in London,1972
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