i pour light
out of my heart
in form of words
stained in ink.

the ink, these words
turn this paper
into a prayer rug.

i sat for years, on the rug
with winds of silence
blowing out of me.
before these words
the eulogies, the poems
broke out.

this poetry
is my journey across ages.
in them, i have woven my soul.

i have turned my poems
into my own pilgrimage.

1 thought on “Pilgrimage”

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