O To Sing One's Own Song Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Searching I was in vain the truth of life
In ancient tomes of scriptures wisdom rife,
In woods and leas, on hilltops, at sea shore
Shrines, but life waiting was close at the door;
When, warned a deeply dwelling voice within:
Listen to your voice amidst all the din.

Walk not to where will's willing nor is keen,
Nor try a royal approval to win,
Chase not a choosy goal from yon of yon,
Nor run a rat-race of a kind now on;
Take an oar that suits, arms your own to row,
It's no use following this mundane flow.

Luck when deserved comes from a lofty perch
Today or by morrow, what use wild search?
Hearken to the voice of the heart your own,
No use being a soul-less callous stone;
Your poem sounds sweet enough in your voice,
A borrowed baritone makes no good choice.
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Sestets | 02.12.12 |
Topic: voice, heart, poem