A Wanderer
A tentative knock
On my window
Made me look up
To see a poem
Sitting on the windowsill
Tired and forlorn.
I have come a long way
Seeking asylum
Can I sit here for sometime?
It asked tremulously.
This room is filled
With great poems.
They are classics
Revered books
Epic poems written by
Eminent writers.
I cannot find space for wanderers,
I replied.
Have you been published?
What is your pedigree?
Were reviews written for you?
Did discussions quote your lines?
Did you get any awards?
I asked.
The head of the poem drooped in shame
Its face fell into despondence.
I have not made my name in the world
No one has found me worthy,
the poem replied.
Let me stay
In a small corner
I will fly away after a rest.
Nearness to these
Famous poets
Will surely bring me solace.
May be one day
A reader may come
To wake me up.
Delve into my pages
Savour me and
take me along.
I pointed to a dusty corner
You can stay there
Till some one finds you
There is space
Even for a lonely traveller.
I opened the windows wide
To let the poem in.