Art of living: A poem by Poonam Kanwal

When oceans ink a pen, the scripts that emerge,
Cannot be contained within the horizon’s spread,
The thoughts & expressions that roll………
Are moons apart, from any inhibitions and bars.
Free-spirited is this form of art.

The canvas of each life is bare when born,
The colors of experience paint pictures on them all,
Sculptures were once a mound of clay,
Hands of life, carve sharp & smooth edges with acts that befall,
The beauty that emerges is a unique art form.

With life gifted into our mortal hides,
Our births may abide to living norms,
But our living can be designed into special forms,
Each unique with its own pros and cons,
Stacked into life’s libraries, autobiographies are found.

The climbs and falls of breaths,
Get wefted & warped into a rhythmic beats,
Exclusivity stands tall in the music that evolves,
Creativity it exudes, 
Ways of living, are designer art forms.