Our time has come! To show gratitude to him who made it happen,
Who planted rich-to reap the ripeness of love- fruition of his mission
Whose long tarry, triumphs, like blinking stars, in the joy of simple things,
In torrid currents, springs the music of life from laughter’s bowstrings,
To traverse the distance between the orbs, to dare giant steps,
Till, every dawn dusts the night’s vigil, in blossoms matching our smiles
Till I make peace in his presence, to match his every stride-going miles,
Who kindled me to the fires of the flowers and the bees, as in storms
To puzzle on the tremor pulsating between the rain and dust, transforms,
Stealing my solitude, mocked me with vain words, he once said;
“I seem as if he was ready to jump in bed- - - - - - - - -“
No more putting words in my mouth, planting ideas in my head,
No more confused meddling with my innocent head,
‘Cause eventually, in reward, that’s what he will get.
Seema.Joglekar
7th June2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem