Recycled Art

I see some glimpses of change,

Subtle yet definite all the same,

My pen on sabbatical leave , so it seems;

Well! mind stopped its bongling cues.

Something whispers through my ears,

As the earth turns out of slumber,

Or a season giving way to another,

Creativity too wishes a new expression. 

Meditate and listen to the whispers within,

The rustling of the paper , signals so clear;

Recycling the new mantra of transformation,

A little bud perhaps ready to bloom.

There I see the spark, creativity speaking volumes,

Without a moments delay, fingers show their prowess,

Ripping old magazines, cutting, folding pasting, weaving,

Then see the magic of recycling, creating a new creation.

Without spending a dime, create something new,

For once not the pen but the paper came to the fore,

Heart and soul both rejoice,seeing the magic of recycling,

With a brand new paper basket, coming alive.

So friends creativity does not depend

On the commodity known as money

For there is always a story to explore

When old stuff is transformed 

Into something new to adore!

Kiren Babal

1st Aug, 2015.