The Budding Youth Poem by Rajpal Singh

1
Your reticence speaks that all
What you never reciprocate at all.
Though you are tied with someone else,
My love is fixed and never grows less.
Marriage is a bond and a beautiful cage,
Which makes us a prisoner and a slave.
But love is a bird, O’ dear, of infinite sky,
Knows no bound and flies very high.
Nuptial cord fastens only bodies, and not hearts,
Where lie our souls, the men’s immortal parts.
Our body is earthly, but the soul the heaven’s due;
Body lies here, but the soul with heaven does glue.
Marriage unites bodies and love unites souls;
Death is bodies’ divorce, but not that of souls.
If union of souls our true marriage be,
You must admit you have betrothed to me.
Deathless is my love ye need know,
And till eternity it will glow.


2
Not a sin as you think it is,
For it blesses with inexpressible bliss.
No material of this sphere, no sense
Can give joy so immense.
Gifted to this earth by Heaven’s grace
To survive the creatures and this race.
If suppose a sin as you think it to be,
Then the greatest sinner its Maker will be,
For, he left for procreation the only device,
Whether it is a virtue or a vice.
If it is laden on us by His irrevocable will,
How dare you defy, and insist still?
Or did you forget Osho’s Preaching
Who devised it for black soul’s bleaching?
What is the need, O dear, to retire in forest,
If in it does our rescue rest.
Come near, give up all hesitation,
And tread with me on this noble path of salvation.


3
Like a tyrant of remote past
You invaded and encroached into my heart.
Having plundered my heart’s precious jewel
You imprisoned me in your heart’s cell.
Me you tempted, wood, and tantalized so far,
But craftily kept yourself afar.
You hurt me and gave indelible lashes
Ruthlessly with the whip of your coyness.
Although I was starved and unfed,
My plight you pretended to be unread.
You made me fast, and my woe to outlast,
And made it more grievous
Than the prisoners of the past;
Hence proved yourself more cruel and savage
Than the hardest tyrant of any age.

4
You never utter a speech,
For you think it a breach
Of uxorial duty, or an impious deed.
Still the mum of your love does feed
The untold words into my ears
Which you do hide, but out of fear;
And the message is being conveyed,
Although by your tongue it is unuttered.
The speech, you know, is an act of soul,
And our tongue has only a decoding role.
Deceased, for instance, lies mute,
But a dumb can easily commune out.
Your muteness reveals all to me,
Whether you speak or speechless be.
Eternal is my love which neither hangs on speech,
Nor can it be rot, decayed or does flinch.