It can be harder than a rock
At times softer as butter
It can travel faster than light
No one so far sized it's depth
That is what is human mind.
Frozen distress melts in heart
and rises from there to
well up eyes,
Droplets of pain become dense
Till a blink they cling up there.
That is what is tear drop in eye.
Splendid workmanship just blooms
in a reed of bamboo that can produce
Tons of tunes without a trill.
That is what is called a flute.
A mystic mirage on and off
Which materializes in our mind
Makes pretty golden illusion
That is what is imagination.
When a blend in sun and rain happens
A half curve joins sky and earth
Day star titivates it with hues
That is what is awesome rainbow
Intonation of silence
Brings transcedental tranquil
Those speculative moments
Always impart peace with ease
That is what is solitude.
Pulsating two hearts eternal unison,
in the realm of mutual magnetic attraction,
sans intrusion of any terms and conditions.
That is what is everlasting love.
When cheer and gaity ret our minds
with contentment and lightheartedness
Reflexively it breaks through us
The sound of mirth or amusement
That is what is our laughter.
When at times we fail in our life
The best friend and last hope
is none but she will be!
The unfathomable incarnation
That is what is mother on earth.
Countless different stopgap domiciles
On and off souls acquired themselves
When one becomes old
they search for anew
as how we change oldish habiliments
into fresh and new ones as per needs.
This changing pattern still goes on
That is what is life and death.
Our one and only guide and aid
Embodiment of love and grace
The Supreme being, Omnipresent
En masse can be called as GOD!
.....................
a new interesting and well penned poem added to your collection.. thanks for inviting to such a pleasant read, dear Mallika. Ad maiora!
Dear Mallika, I, I really liked your poem and I loved the repeating line at the end of each stanza. That is what is In the U.S.A. That line would be considered incorrect grammar.I think that phrase works beautifully in this poem.. And don't listen to anyone who tells you to fixit. Thank you for sharing!
love is the capital and grace is the fruit of life, truth is the path..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The mysteries of life cannot be approached by plodding thoughts, but only by lissome, skipping steps as seen in these stanzas. Some mysteries are fragile and ephemeral, such as emotions that melt and flow as tears. Some mysteries happen when natural conditions join in a special way, like a rainbow. Some unfold inevitably with grand sweep, like the life-death cycle. Some act with great power, like motherhood and the Creator. Imagination shimmers subtly, love pulsates, and the flute is a flower-vase of melodies. All of these are aspects of existence that set the soul vibrating. .