The God of Wind
I was then and I am now,
Never a time when I wasn’t around,
Warm I am, howbeit frigid I can be,
Been through times when have been on my knees.
Always to lift both spirits and sand,
Across the sea, lashing at the stands,
The forests love me, young woods more so,
Rustling the orchestra for sweet chirping birds,
Bringing respite and great solace,
From scorching suns and searing flares,
Rarely still, unless I am weary,
That’s somedeal better than when I am teary,
Little ones giggle when I take a sob,
Grown-ups smile when I let me cry,
The Gods worry when I sit to wail,
And that’s wontedly my routine tale,
Born to dry, born to wet,
Having the most unbelieving of ways,
Neither a master, nor a slave,
Whims and fancies are my game,
Learnt have I a zillion lessons,
To stay calm as far as ye can,
Being a breeze as much as ye can,
To swell to a gale only for reason,
To be a storm only if treason,
Man oh man! Have seen ye so much,
Have seen ye tough and seen ye weak,
Seen ye right from the moment ye breathed,
A long hard way ye’ve verily come,
Contemptuously moulded ye’ve now become,
Differing so from all other life-forms,
But forget never where your origins took birth,
Or the case teleological of your very belonging,
Always remember a time would come,
When narcissism shall cease with a broken grit,
So flex your mind and always be humble,
Prepare for changes and forever be nimble,
Enveloped in plutomania ye are these days,
Remind yourself, there will come a time,
When all ye can do is nothing, but pray.
17Dec2014
Copyright © Sudha Chandra | Year Posted 2014
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