The Lyre In The Dream Poem by Shouvik Narayan Hore

On a hushed moonlit September
Lyre in hand arose one member
Beneath the silence of the stars,
Beyond the boundary of plush cars,
And tranquil still the Summer sky,
Only pure Autumn's petals fly,
Half ambushed standing one eve's hill,
Whose valleys gurgling waters fill,
A fondling music whispered near,
Too far to feel, too fine to hear.

Arose he under sacred skies,
Where shyness extreme slow death dies,
Lyre in hand his voice poised, slow,
Blossoming in firefly's glow,
More slowly did his face reveal,
Those truths his heart had long conceal,
What greater solace calmness bring,
How Heavenly could nature sing!
He began- and was witnessed by,
Merging in Nature's melodie.

One rabbit sat, one pigeon hung,
The fruit bats lent their voice and sung,
Dearer the night dove flapped her wing,
Burrowed squirrels to rhythms cling,
Sooner us joined a nightingale!
Grecian delight! Oh hail! Oh hail!
A deer listened and grooved in joy,
Her glee unmatched; No human boy
Can match his steps- save my lone girl,
Flare like torched me her glorious curl.

She sat tight lipped, but smiles serene,
Escaped her eye- I further glean
She wrapped her arms around my hand,
We two in God's unity stand.
The lyre fell off faster! Prompt
I descended; No sooner romped
I lonely stood- what fate, Alas!
While winds soften the moonlit grass
I dream of Wonderland- A Dream,
The woodland thrush, the silvery stream.