PRAVEEN KUMAR English Poems Poems

Justice begotten in exchange is no justice,
For, exchange is trade,
A distressing gain through loss;
Justice is inherent right,
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The sun in clouds,
Dim, dull and subdued outside,
Has ever lost his fierce sunshine?
The layers of clouds
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Who created this beautiful world?
What a harmony and perfection!
Who thought this beauty, who brought it out?
Who is he that perfected it?
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Idle, semiconscious winter fog
Settles heavy on deforested nude,
Grey and dull, everywhere, dull lull;
Spine-chilling cold, blinding grey fog,
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Fleshy, pretty, innocent parrot
Makes an easy hunter's target;
Succulent, pretty, meek rabbit
Gets first caught in tricker's dragnet,
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My dear, when you came here,
I did ask why you came near,
For, your eager steps stirred me not then;
The distance you crossed indeed was long
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Life is what you make of it,
Like raw clay, lithe, soft and wet
And waits your hand to play on it
With the labour of creative flight
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They surface from roadside pot-holes,
From cracks of walls and street corners,
From mysterious creeks
With fire-spewing guns in hand
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Honesty is hallowed straight road,
Though dull, tiresome and slow;
A sure road to reach one's goal,
Though fruits come in bits and sweats.
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Win the world by love, not by war,
For, no wars are ever Won;
Win the world with heart, not with arms,
For, no arms ever win the world.
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