“A rolling stone gathers no moss”

They would say,
‘rolling stone gathers no moss’
But isn’t all the fun they have
to experience?
Rolling from region to region
some close place akin to home
some, fresh like rainbow after storm
while some feels pale and obscure
and others, feels lively
with arrays of radiant hope
Behind every episode of thrust, there
remains the intense course of the journey.
and for them, hasn’t been any doubt;
after one rolls down the track…
“gusto for the odyssey may never end”
they would flatter.

~an impromptu poem for #NaPoWriMo day 7

Prompt Day 7: a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying. They say that “all cats are black at midnight,” but really? Surely some of them remain striped. And maybe there is an ill wind that blows some good. Perhaps that wind just has some mild dyspepsia; https://www.napowrimo.net/day-seven-8/

Here’s my take. Hope you enjoyed:)

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