Guru Of Great Girth Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Big brother and benevolent guru,
Ye save us from some straying shooting stars—
Rebels and renegade missiles of Wars—
We on this earth do cherish thine bright hue.

Bestow to us thine blessings auspicious,
Do tell us the secret of thine huge size,
Like colossus ye straddle solar skies,
And fatherly figure art thou to us.

Ah moons ye have exceeding dozens five,
Fascinated we feel with just our one,
And wait for weeks for full moon to arrive,
But wonder if more is or not more fun.

Ye give tail wind to earthlings' curious wings.
And source of strength thou art to all siblings.
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The poem is for children. Missiles of wars refer to meteors and fragments of Mars, or a planet between Mars and Jupiter that broke up due to an unknown collision in the past.
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Musings | 03.08.12 |