Why I Write

Many a times this question is asked why one writes. I was asked this question and I gave some answer or tried avoiding to answer. Couple of days back while I was having my morning coffee, the answer came to my mind as a poem that I jotted down. Is that the answer? Honestly, I don’t know. However, each and every word in the poem is true.

I forget the world
when I write,
I do not even know
what I write,
Only thing I know,
no, I feel,
there is a light
that shines,
and shows me the way,
the fingers move,
they are mine,
but they are not,
I do not have
any control,
I know not
the words that
come out,
Know not what
they mean,
I feel as if
my soul leaves me,
light and feathery,
it takes flight,
and when all is done,
I am back,
and I am me,
atleast what I
think is me,
there is such
an exhilaration
in writing,
I feel I die
and come back to
earth again.