A Needle, More Than Scissors
There once was a noble man, a tailor,
A great sage disguised in garbs of lay soul,
In sea of mundane life a skilled sailor
In search of a hallowed path of plain goal.
A king when came to him, homage to pay,
Gifted a pair of scissors made of gold
That left the sage ponder, if somewhat cold,
Declining gift he had no more to say.
What may I give then, Great Sage? Asked the king,
Give if ye must, get me needle to stitch,
If scissors diminish by dividing,
Needles bond, strive togetherness to reach,
Bring broken hearts back, as ere to abide,
Not scissors, let a needle be my guide.
__________________________________________
Sonnet (Reflections | 03.05.2008, revised Jan 2024|
Copyright © Aniruddha Pathak | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment