The Child's Play Poem by Ramesh Joshi

THE CHILD PLAY.
A child am I, playing on the Sand of time
Knowing not what I do on sand, building
Castles in the air, darkening the white canvas
of life, of a precious kind awhile.

What a childish play in the grown mustache?
Beards have grown grey on the child's face.
Still there is no end to its foolish sport, the
time is taking the wind out of the sail, abreast.

A child as I am, in mind not grown, only flesh,
with no brain grown to make me matured
on the sand I, playing with the fleeting time,
that shames me growing old, insane, ungrown.

LEAD KINDLY LIGHT.

The groan of gloom of sensate pleasures encircles
my mind, making me sick and sad day and night.
The shining self veiled within, and without, full of
ignorance, the mind witnessing, lo! , mad monkey trick.

Uneasy and sick are senses, in intoxicating delirium,
Of licencious raptures, and malicious pleasures within,
Like suiciding bee, howevering round the poisonous
flower, heralding the march towards the doomsday.

I pray my God, the heavenly father, shrunken in
soul within, to save me of the tormenting hell
to lead kindly light amidst the encircling gloom,
towards the path of perfection and forgotten glory.