A Wintry Night
A Wintry Night
The night is dull, dreary and cold,
Yet my books I wish to unfold,
My aged pen I wish to hold
And divine verses to unroll.
The wind is cold, sturdy and strong,
My bones are frail, feeble and weak,
Yet my mind is robust and young
And songs with rhymes I long to tweet.
The clouds are dense, hefty and dark,
Yet my inner self is full bright,
Plugged with the radiant inner spark
And dazzling with the inner light.
The rains are wet, heavy and damp,
Yet my soul is light and full bright,
Drawing from the flame of the lamp,
Lit throughout the day and the night.
My frame is still, steady and warm,
But soon it will turn wintry cold
And laid to rest as food for worms
Or set to fire on a fold.
Yet the night will soon fade away
And anon a new dawn creep in,
Giving rise to another day,
May be better than one has seen.
Like the new dawn, my soul will rise
To reside in another shrine
Until, at last, time will arise
For it to reach the Divine Shrine
Where there will be no wintry night
And the light will be ever bright.
Written on 7 May 2023
For A Brian Strand Premiere No. 1215 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Copyright © Krishnanand Guptar | Year Posted 2023
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