Driving alone
on unknown streets,

trees and buildings
dot the sides,

crossings come
and crossings go,

there seems
to be a direction,

but of the destination
i’m unsure,

at a red light
i stop,

and thoughts
start crossing,

from one side
to the other,

some even cross sides
more than once,

the stream is endless
almost a jam,

the light turns green
says go, drive on,

but in this melee of unbridled thoughts

there’s no space
to move an inch ahead,

that’s when i spot you
amongst this fog,

and i drop the pen
get out of my car,

to watch you cross
from side to side,

this, yours
endearing dance,

collecting its own
adding applauding crowd,

i join the melee
as one amongst them,

for they are mine
and i am them,

the waiting blank sheet
can certainly do,

without you
being written about tonight,

for nothing needs
to be written really,

when all has already
been discreetly let out,

and my thoughts,

and somewhere, therein
this you,

and i think,

sometimes silence
is the resultant jam,

of too many thoughts crossing the way,

a silent climax,

of just having too much to say.

© vidursahdev 2022