A Transcending Passage Poem by p.k.n. panicker

I do wonder often
what makes things to happen
in this world of uncertainties,
in this world of chaos
and more chaos every day.

Everywhere around me
things happen most unexpectedly;
The TV blares news over news
of happenings never expected.

An earthquake, a devastating cyclone,
an erupting volcano, rising tsunami waves,
an avalanche, a cloud burst,
a draught, a snow storm,
a flash flood, a land slide,
an epidemic, a forest fire;

A clash of cultures, a war,
a terrorist attack, a shower of nuclear bombs,
release of poisonous gases or of deadly viruses;

A quarrel, a murder,
mass murders, hate crimes and genocides,
rapes and mutilation of bodies;

Crimes for no reason, for no purpose,
a state of anarchy all around me.

I do often wonder,
Is this world built
on a state of irrational randomness
destined always to be
in a chaotic flux of uncertainties?

But at times
When I am by the side of this ocean vast
on its serene beach
where the waves come and hug the land,
return to come back again,

When I sit on the Vivekananda Rock at Kanyakumari
touch the feet of Vivekananda and Valluvar,
stand immersed
in the inexplicable grace and stunning beauty
of the Kumari in penance,

When I stand in the villages
at the foot of the Himalayas
absorbed in the unbelievably peaceful environment,
gazing at the snow covered peaks
under the chrome -yellow sky,

When I stand astounded
to see the energy charged waters of the Niagara
drop down to a degree of greater equilibrium,

When I see tiny seeds sprout
to grow into mammoth trees
capturing all the carbon in the atmosphere,

When I see tiny plants and shrubs
flower to spread sweet aroma,
splash pleasing colours all around
and provide fruits, grains, cereals and millets
to quench thirst and hunger of every living being,

When I realise
that the scorching burning sun works
to light the lamps in our houses,
turn the pumps in our fields,

When I learn
that the trapped tiny atoms work
to run the giant machines in our factories
and the medical equipment
bringing succour and hope to the deceased,

I am convinced and reassured
that random bricks are not the ones
on which this world is built.

It is no blind artisan who built this world.

This world is built on sound natural laws,
laws that bind tiny specks of energy
transcending into matter and vice versa,

laws that prompt me to work hard and harder
to cross over to the other side
of the rivers, the land, the oceans,
the distant horizons beyond death,

laws that govern the passage
of matter into timeless self.