The Path Of Life Poem by Praveen Kumar In Shobha Priya

The road is indeed endless
Though runs straight and indefinite,
Where I must walk all my life;
All is not well along the path,
Yet, the sojourn must pass unperturbed
Day and night, in rain and heat;
Narrow lanes, inroads, sudden turns,
Rises and falls are the twists of the tryst;
Mud roads, road-blocks and hard surfaces
Come and go along the path;
Why curse the course, why berate fate
For distinct characters that mould the world?

A path is a means to traverse with time,
An accessible means that carries to a goal;
Till limbs are in hold and will sticks still,
' I' only matters and 'distance' matters
Though the vagaries of path do bring some mirth
And spur to haste and run sometimes.

Nothing stunt sojourn, nothing block smooth ride,
Nor shorten nor lengthen the path of goal,
Nor build within, nor crackle confidence,
Nor refresh the life, nor bring new light;
Why dawdle away days on immament features?
Why weep while fall, why laugh while climb?
Why twist in discomfort of rain and heat?
Walk insulated from outside with trust in self,
‘Tis the path for contented walk.

Whatever may come, whatever may go,
Whatever on the path is in store as fate,
I must walk as always I am;
Proud of self and diligent of walk,
I tread the path that comes in front;
Whatever at back, bears my print,
Whatever in front, conforms to inner strength.

No fog flags, no road-blocks sag
Calm and contented steady stride;
Dust and sweat may cover my form,
Rain and heat may weather the frame,
But calm confidence forever zooms,
Pride and courage, larger loom
In soul, while I walk all alone
In own strength, on own road,
Where I am the king on own right,
Where I am right on own thought;
A dear little devil in evil world,
A rare little angel in free world,
I grow not without commitment
To grow in peaceful compromise.

No hops, no shakes, no dazzles and winds
Weaken roots deep ‘neath the ground,
No hopes, no plaudits, no spurs for smooth sail
Do or fordo the stoic balance,
For, I know my path and know my goal
And ride in steady stride to my tryst.

A humble walk in simple tread
Meets its tryst in pride indeed;
A prompted march to race ahead
Meets its Waterloo in shattered mind.