Prestidigitators

Words are magicians
With so full of life and laughter
In a way they amass treasure mines
Of strident idioms to entrap viewers..
In one impressive rostrum..
They enter the world to conquer
With much pomp and poise
Holding a wand that of gold..

Words are like migratory birds
From a farthest forest,
They fly across mountains
and horizons to mould a nest
of imagination to create,
To recreate a million fables..

Words are prestidigitators,
They glide beyond the territory of earth
To touch upon the limitless sky
To pluck a dream from the universe,
To sing to dance with the cosmos..

Words are magnifiers and warriors
They fight a war with no artillery or regiments
They pierce the walls, invade terrains
Speak in a million antonyms
To fake a feel a love, to fuse to entrap
to sedate the vulnerable heartbeats

Words are savants,
However fall short of an alphabet
to cop up the whole burden
of a lost feeling or a petal of a dream..
Words but take the lead
To pretend to make believe
That everything falls in its place..
For real and unreal as in magic..

World perhaps a cover page
Of a book of words
Half read, half unread Half known, half unknown..

-A poem by Rema Pisharody