Bijay Poudel

Rookie - 1 Points (10th june,1991 / Khotang, Nepal)

The lamp


I’ve seen a brilliant lamp,
Beyond the walls of this enclosed room,
Beyond the darkest and darkest of nights,
Beyond the torments of its gloom.

I’ve seen hands feeding it fire,
And tender palms above, canopying,
Of gardens full of victory roses,
I’ve seen the lamp hoping.

When a gust of wind hits it,
Or a drizzle lays its claim,
It still shoots up undaunted,
With its victo-rious flame.

I don’t know whose hands are those,
In this mist I cannot see,
I don’t know any noblemen,
Who can hire a lamp for me.

That can contain in its fire,
A soothing fragrance of its calm,
In the hours of hopelessness,
That can fetch two tender palms.

But now that I wonder,
Over the mystique of this light,
That can illuminate every nooks and corners,
Of any realms, although infinite.

Ah now I get it, the mystery,
You see a mirror had been placed,
Unto the wall of this room,
Hitherto un-knowingly faced.

The image this mirror contains,
The victorious light inside I see,
With all those lamp and hands and palms,
It was just reflecting me.

...With all those lamp and hands and palms,
It was just reflecting me.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Topic of this poem: hope


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