The sapling to the bud
In the care of the gardener
Distant with eyes brightened
The beloved’s contours
So skinny was the fashion
Did not the maestro craftsman
Tell the line of curve
Pruning and trimming
The shape came out
To be the bronze statue
In the hall of fame
Before the sunset
And to the moon
The bow was in gratitude
Where from came the reflections
While the mirror shone
The self was carved sharp
And the illusions
Like growing flowers
And like flying butterflies
From the head
With burning desires
In whose hands was the bird
Humming sweet nectar
And songs of love
That together when we sing
Shall then we live forever
23/10/2009
Dedication: Reshma Ramesh on the occasion of launching of her book “Reflections of Illusions” Heartfelt congratulations.
an obra maestra...this is nicely done by a very highly appreciated maestro..it's the author am talking about...this will go to my fav..so nice and so beautiful...smart as represented..naizz
a maestrol of work very nice.........and sweet dedication............
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful words, nicely handled