Deja Vu Poem by Anita Sehgal
Deja Vu
Something stirred within me,
A memory, faint as the footprints on the washed out sand
… Déjà vu
Like waves which yearn to touch the sky,
Like a river which races to loose its identity,
Like the flames which consume.
What is it that I left behind which bothers me so?
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ummmm...could it be natures timed gift... :) youth sigh.....your poem echoes from the kilimanjaro, the rockies, fujiyama, yes the Andies.....and lest i forget the ghats too loved it cheers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 6:22:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
TO LOSE ITS IDENTITY PERHAPS... A VERY gentle poetry like a woman satisfied about herself.