The Monkess Of Power Poem by Sumita Jetley

She walks in silence, yet all turn to see, A presence that humbles, steady and free.No force in her voice, no thunderous call, Yet she moves the mountains, without rise or fall.

A saree crisp, in woven grace, A silver bangle—her time's embrace.She carries no weight, yet bears it all, The tides of power, serene and tall.

Not through command, nor rigid reign, But with a pause, both soft and plain.She listens first, lets silence grow, And in that stillness, the answers flow.

A protest swells, the air runs cold, The voices restless, young and bold.She lifts no shield, sends forth no might, But calls for reason, for hearts to unite.

For power is light, in hands held loose, A whisper of wisdom, not a noose.She moves like water, firm yet kind, With monkess rare, a tranquil mind.

A story told in gentle ways, A legend written through passing days.Not in the battles, nor banners unfurled, But in how she carries the weight of the world.

True power is not in taking, nor in demand, But in still waters, held lightly in hand.