Soar the sky in such a way,
That even the lord knocks the door and says:
“A life wasn’t lived in vain.”
Though we’re here for a purpose,
For when the purpose will be fulfilled;
We shall return again.
But our purposes are unknown;
Yet, we fall and rise again.
Like a sapling we grow,
Through the thunder, sunny blows.
And when we stand like a tree grown,
We see the world as transcendent and unknown.
The thirst to assimilate shouldn’t fade;
No matter who comes or goes.
Each minute and each season counts,
And in the blink of an eye;
We’ll not get the time to ponder the whereabouts.
And so to my readers,
If thou perchance these verses,
Don’t be idle and count the time;
Throw open thy window pane
And let the soul soak
The warmth of the new day.
Mayhap the flower that’s growing underneath thy window,
Shall rise to the new hope.
Above all, and slowly, we all will fade.
May it be tomorrow or today;
The circle will not be withheld.
Ask the caterpillar who had once dreamt;
To be a butterfly, with vibgyor wings to spread.
***
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at [email protected].
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