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Poem

It is worth pondering over,
About where are we all, forms of life,
Headed to?

Pray, running after what our minds, our bodies,
Even our senses direct us
Seems fair enough for all of us!

After all, life remains what it is, something meant to be lived
And living implies what it spells out,
Experiencing, feeling, hurting, laughing, forgiving,
Crying, letting go, bruising, being bruised, in all,
Just living!

But then, we are merely little characters in snow globes
We start living the moment some higher subtle power shakes it
We stop living the moment everything falls back down
We just close our eyes, allow that power to remove its power switch 
And we doze into a sea of mystery
Waiting, for when, our snow globe would be shaken again, so as 
To live, again!

Why, when we remain thus,
Is it worth living then?
Would it not be better then, to simply
Choose a spot under the warm shade of a baobab somewhere
On an evergreen mountain overlooking the sea
And just smile, when clouds wave at us,
Or, when rain tickles us,
Or, when the sun tantrums at us by burning us?

Pray, the huge amount of stress is not worth it
The clenching of teeth and fists is not worth it
The explosion of anger is not worth it
Nothing is, except understanding that we do live only once, yes
But, we have to go about with it as ancient seers did
With an air of detachment, perfectly aware that we are mere travellers
Here and that we shall open our souls to new worlds someday!

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