The Poesy Of Life. Poem by Ravi Panamanna

Winds of yore
Under that village tree
By that little brook
Very auriferous.

Villagers gathered around
Fanfare did sweetly resound.
Crops and cattle were our treasure,
In simplicities we discovered our pleasure.

Yonder that hill by that pool
Stood the native school.
The wisdom of the teachers taught
Our forefathers that the earth was round.

Beyond the skirts of the fields
where the clouds reposed on the hills,
Beyond the woods
where the floriferous scent not wafted,
Our sails measured no nautical mile
Our harvests reaped no crops vile.

The petrichor filled our ways and dreams
The lanterns lighted enough though dim.
Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in simplicity,
Our seasons were fine.

No boarders, no fences
The wind was one chime.
Birds, a singular chirp
Meadows were for all folks.

Yet, the life had a cycle,
Waters, their course.
All days are not sunny days,
All songs need not be melodious.

The winds beyond the dales
Presented alluring tales-
Of distant lands and ports
Which heralded richness
Where life was auriferous,
Life, ever gorgeous.

An irresistible call that was,
Generations slowly made a passage.
Seasons missed familiar chirps,
Meadows longed for returning birds.

The woods waited for familiar steps
The brooks longed for old comrades.
The grounds yearned for their playmates,
The forest primeval, longing for the calls

Drawn by the bee line of life
Those generations disappeared oblivious.
Now, upon these meadows dwells another race
With another customs, a different vibe.

Wither life, wither the seasons,
Wither civilisations and eons pass.
Upon graveyards and dusted mansions
Streams will flow, sheep will flock,
Moon will send a joyous glance
and the poesy of life will flourish.

17th September 2017.