The world isn’t a pie gone cold,
the landmass and the seaare finite of course, but can still hold
heaps of dross and the gleam of gold,
and a place for you; and me.
The world is broader than we know
and deeper than we can surmise;there’s no need to prod and burrow,
to turn each stone wherever we go,
to peg a number to its size;
mark it into plot and square
fence the garden tight and strong,sweep the courtyard clean and bare;
and still the leaves will pile up there,
seasons pour out their songs.
There’s no need to set a beat
to each song that they hum -not every garden is square and neat,
the banyan bends at its own feet
in splendour and in freedom.
The world is not a slice of pie
we can loosely say, or exact,who’s got the larger, you or I;
slice it up and it goes dry
let's leave the mystique intact.
I dunno from where do u find inspiration to write such poems...perhaps there is an inner angst that simple finds an outlet through your pen....u may try piling all ur works and publish them in a book.
ReplyDeleteHi Ritesh, no angst behind this, just a WEF Report on countries :) thanks for your encouraging words.
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ReplyDeleteThe world is not a slice of pie
we can loosely say, or exact,
who’s got the larger, you or I;
slice it up and it goes dry
let's leave the mystique intact....
such a beautiful composition... especially the last stanza.
Thank you, Aparna, glad you enjoyed it.
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