While the good and honourable abjectly fail.
Even perseverance may not yield much,
Endurance too many fail the test-
Your knife heart will cry aloud
But will cry alone, stunned as you’re by the rest.
I pray for you so that such quirks of fate
You do not have to ever fend,
The scent of flowers from all around
Touched my soul to set it free.
The madness yonder spread afar
Till they meet the bending sky-
The hanging firmament looks at me
Like a just- wed bride, quite and shy.
Giving comfort and the strength to fight
Soul acts as a teacher and a friend
Which whispers in ears new lessons of life
Saying, salvation comes only through pain.
At times I forget what I set out to do,
I find it hard to remember a name,
Yet these failings cause no worry to me –
As something much higher is now my aim.
By helping, spending time with them-
Goodness on its own shall flourish within
Keeping you busy in your new found dream.
I walked along the aisles of the meadow
Everywhere there’s a riot of colour,
Sweet smell of flowers wafted in the air
Creating a surreal atmosphere.
How can a rustic like me respond
To a mad world moving at a breakneck speed?
How does he come out of his long – held creed?
While I still grapple with the monstrous tech age
And vainly try to come to terms with it,
To look at astral objects all;
With that fulfilled, I’ll acquire
The stature of a man tall.
Once you find where you erred,
Resolve not to repeat that again-
And know that you incurred no great loss,
For in reform there’s permanent gain.
You’d say,“ Sorry, brother, I won’t lie-But where’s the time. To bemoan your death? Attending your rites, or putting a wreath?”