Let Heaven Sit In Judgment, Not Men Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Let heaven judge the best it can,
Pick up pretenders, right from wrong,
Justice is done by man, not pen.

If truth should die ere rise again,
Who'd ever sing a rightful song?
Let heaven judge the best as can.

A child's born, grows to be young man,
Truth grows no girth, lives ever young,
Justice is done by man, not pen.

Grown ups grow to be flightless when,
Led by logic as they for long,
Let heaven judge the best it can.

If two birds were to fly as one,
Their feathers together aught hung,
Not pen, justice is done by men.

Seamless do the days and nights run,
Who knows how ends each other's song,
Let heaven sit and judge best can,
Justice is done by men, not pen.
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A child an instinctive natural judge never sits in judgment of right and wrong. So is an old man in second childhood. But the youth feels proud to be rational, ruled by head rather than heart. Yet, what's right, what's wrong; when a day begins, when ends; when precisely light takes over from darkness? Between white and black there lies grey, as does between right and wrong, between truth and falsehood, and all contrasting opposites in life. There is one infinite continuum; only peoples' perspectives differ. Who are we humans to sit in judgment?
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Villanelle | 11.09.08 |