Musing 21 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

When the music majestic drips on ears
As the honey from the beehive upon the visage,
Quench the thirst of hardships and bitter pain.
Soar air of sorrows and fatigues falls on the ground
And the magical rings jovial encompassing the surrounds
Rejuvenate the wounded souls towards the avowed goals.
Pressing reeds emanate the divine missives like the choirs
At the midnight mass being unison with the winged angels of cathedral,
Inviting the sonorous marvels of gentle treads of heavenly intruders
In mission pious to rekindle the vision of birds in prayer.