Solitude

There is a wilderness in the air
Which the usual minds cannot bear.
There is a silence which speaks ,
Releasing the joys that peaks.

A conventional mind like a bee ,
Wallows in the vicissitudes of the society.
Getting its spatters of joy  from relations/people,
Which has a tendency to fade with the time.
A real ambitious mind does not settle for such spatters,
He craves for more than happiness,
But where is the holy grail of ‘joy’ to be found.

Not really  in the relations that the world adheres,

Not even in the affairs of the heart that is nice to partake,
Not definitely in the blabbering that the mouth indulges
Not in the glitters of the materialistic world
But only it endears in  the  solitude that few experience.
The real joy  is enjoyed without human interference.
Peak joy for a poet is when the prose speaks to the poet
or when the music  presents itself to the musician.
A state when the mind gets dissolved in the silence
When the  music is not heard
But only when it is.