In the terrains of infinite space and time
There sits a god playing a strange game
He holds a hand down to the valleys of the earth
A few try to touch it in all ecstasy
But he withdraws his hand!
Peace upon you all
The sermon is repeated
And the throng withers out.
But a weeping lady stays back for a while
The silence of the pulpit surrounds her.
The paradox of games sprouts.
Because of a hope spun long before
Children continue to look at the rainbow
That has cut its presence through the sky dark otherwise.
The god now begins to win over himself
In the game of a choice out of none!
With some golden dust sprayed around themselves
The sinners now sing a hymn aloud
They fly over the water laughing at the walking episode
Time moves from the plate of the dreary portals
The paradox of games blooms
The flames will soon eat up the rest
And the blue divinity will soon transform into a super cluster
Of demons and spirits haunting the past.
The tale of resurrection will still be told
And a crowd will open its new ears for listening.
The paradox of a human concern is burnt alive!
Ah! ... Dear Poet, you are so considerate of the Creator, creations and their life, hear and after. That itself shows how sensibly engaged thou art in matters of utmost significance that even the prophets and priests often miserably failed. Well, what can i say about your style and language, your treatment of the thought, imagination and passion, what to jot on your intimate intentions in inspiring and engaging the mortal souls in pursuit of realities absolute! Well, another Dineshic treat with its tender ripples in 360 degree gently swolling and fading off by the distant soul banks. God bless.
Interesting poem with Deep observation you have penned down well. Very true said in the last line..The paradox of a human concern is burnt alive!
Very cool poem. The words really present an interesting picture. Enjoyed!
This poem reminds me of one poem (Zooming in) written by Aswath...and to write such a piece very heated up and heightened imagination is required which you have indeed! ! !
He plays games. We are the pawns. Sinners sing. Crowd opens new ears. That sums up the a poem filled with keen observations. Nice poem.
This poem has an unmistakable 'Dineshan' ring about it in its questioning of the divine dispensation.....! But I must admit my inability to delve into the core of its contents, however hard I tried... It remains moreover an unsolved puzzle!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An interesting poem. Enjoyed the read!