A poet's thoughts are like a flowing river, br It has its own currents and under currents. br As long as the river flows, so does life all around. br Once it stops flowing, everything stagnates with it. br br Sadly, I have stagnated now. br Dear Poets, be assured, I read all your poems. br Like before, your words leave an indelible impression br In my old but tender mind. I sigh, I cry, yet I cannot write. br br Alas, my river has lost direction. br Strips of sandy land are rising up on my bed. br No one would ever know why I stopped flowing. br Why I hear the the singing birds, but cannot lend my voice! br br Dhaka br 15 June 2014 br Copyright Reserved.