Written Words Poem by Ajit Das

Birds are like words, writing their stories
in black letters, as they set out
on flights across the sky.

They curve dotted lines on the immense blue,
going up, then down, drifting sideways,
again gaining height, waving in the wind,
rhythmic, joyous, unfettered.


But words have their hard-luck tales.
They are to face the obscurant eyes,
while flowing into stanzas on blank pages;
a threat to muzzle them looms always.

The persecutor has spread out his net
of hate and terror everywhere.
Yet what is written dares to convey
a message of its own.