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Monday, May 11, 2020

My Pliable Clay

A harmony of hues I see from my tent
in the far off land having infinite sphere;
There sparked the azure sky a thunderbolt
I hailed the holy attic from my mortal vault.

Ambient cosmic glaze has tinted everything
my humble abode and my mean belongings;
This place I call it - a home, it's my nook
here peace is treasured as an heirloom.

From this toned canvas house of mine
I see ahead myriad mysteries of life;
It's an institution of learning, a place to ponder
where one can disjoin creation and creator.

A balm to the soul is my canopy's springtime
where I discern an ornate mode from a hermit's life,
where spring flows through fields and caverns,
And fair sunshine falls on garnets and gravels.

My pliable heart is the king of this wilderness.
The undisputed king of this land, here it rules!
I swear, it's a wicker work of my pliable clay
who alongwith simple joys has played its medley.

Copyright © DrNikhat Bano May 2020 All rights reserved
Dr. Nikhat Bano
Topic(s) of this poem: philosophical
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