Bharat (India) Poem by Kali Kaivalya

India, cradle of the human race,
Where history's art and essence grace
A land that treasures what's most dear,
Old wisdom speaks, forever clear.

The Indian way, so true, so pure,
Shows life's own path, the souls secure.
Yet we, adorned in masks unkind,
Forget the truths our hearts might find.

Upon her face, a tender light—
The Creator's mark, serene and bright,
In Sanskrit's sounds, in rhythm's flow,
Grander than Latin's hallowed glow.

O Bharat! Earth's dreamer's home,
Where vision stirred beneath Heaven's dome.
Through Vedic verse, and cosmic lore,
Great minds have pondered, sought, and soared.

What skies have seen the human mind
In loftier heights or paths refined.
To Bharat I'd point and say,
Here lies the heart's most noble way.

The Vedas speak, an ancient breath,
Of life, of cosmos, birth, and death.
Of healing arts, of sound and song,
Of home and craft, where skill belongs.

They chronicle a vast terrain—
Science, law, the stars, the rain.
This underdeveloped land, they say,
Yet hers is a spirit no one can decay.

Bharat lives in layered time,
Where centuries dance in mystic rhyme.
Each land unique, yet here we trace
An ancient thirst for wisdom's grace.

The Vedic voice, the storied past,
Once marred by foreign shadows cast,
Now wakes, revives, her noble art,
For noble thoughts in every heart.

~~ Kali Kaivalya ~~