My Strength

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Tuesday, July 3, 2012


I like those who return home
They are with Nature
They carry the moisture of love
There is a defeat on their face and body, a surrender
Returning home is the last thing you cling on to

Those who return home are children
There is the dirt of nomadic pursuit in them
Their sweat smell like childhood
The exhaustion of the wings

At every stage of the journey there is memory, the smell of home
The body is home
Till you leave it.

-Santhosh Kumar Kana 


Shraddha Gautam said...

Only an extraordinary mind can think in such a way . Classic !! A perfect combination of brilliance and sensitivity.

Avantika jhunjhunwala said...

Terrific!!!....."the body is home, till you leave it!". WOW!

Asim Krishna Prasad said...

really nice thought.."Their sweat smell like childhood"...just love the very theme of the poem...