on moving on

Current mood: sentimental

One fine morning,
a man was strolling
along the shore;
with a tranquil mileau around,
comfort enveloped him.
His soul seemed like rejoicing
with the enormous sense of space
as he unraveled himself-
sat on the sand
and let his thoughts wander.
Like waves to the shore,
words came rushing
without encumbrances.

Nature stirred him inside.
For a second or two,
he ceased thinking
but feeling
and let its depth
move his pen.
Every stroke,
every scribble
soaked in intermittent tearsdrops,
spoke of a long-kept emotion
now gone unbridled.

He rolled the paper,
sealed it in a bottle
and threw into the ocean
HIS OLD SELF.