Reading poetry

Imagine that you are sitting at the edge of a lake. Before you lies the vast expanse of the lake that is still and motionless with the sky the color of blue hydrangeas. Behind you lies a lush green field that seems endless with a lonely huge tree at a long distance with all colors of flowers adorning it. And there is not a sound heard. Silence - absolute silence that screams in your ears. As you begin forming meaningless patterns in the water at the edge of the lake with your hand - the coldness of the water spreading through your entire body from the tips of your fingers - comes flying a white unicorn with golden wings from the sky. It lands near you and folding its wings, bends down and starts drinking water from the lake. You keep looking at it with no particular feeling. Slowly, the unicorn turns to look at you, beginning to flap its wings. It does not fly but is rooted to its spot just flapping its golden wings. And your eyes meet. 

How would you feel then?!

A lot of people would reply that they would be overjoyed or excited or many more such. But the truth is you would be undergoing a mixture of emotions. Your heart would be filled with a sense of serenity and joy but at the back of your brain, you would know that it is not real. You would realize that it is a dream but you would wish that it would have the faintest chance of becoming real so that you could spend more time at that place till reality hit you.

That is the exact feeling mixture of feelings I experience every time I read a good poem. It is never a particular emotion or feeling but instead, an overlapping mixture of longing, joy and sadness.

And the beauty of good poetry is that it takes every single person to a different place and allows him/her to be subjected to an assortment of feelings and emotions that have never been felt before.

Words when carefully (or on occasions, even playfully) arranged could lead to new worlds.

The option of throwing out the keys that unlock these worlds as we complete education or carrying them along as we continue with our existence lies with us.

After all, we begin our lives with the simplest of poems - nursery rhymes - and if I might tread further sentimentally, lullabies. Why not cherish a few more good ones along the way?

P.S.: Why is there a general belief that unicorns are loved only by girls?!

We, boys, are crazy about horses. Why then the disparity when it comes to the ones with wings?!