An Ode To Life, Part Iii
And O Life safe art thou, nor yet secure,
Those averse to danger can scarce shun it,
It better be braved, let streets be unlit,
No success walks in on its own for sure.
A farming field art thou, man’s born with yoke,
And struggles apart, not a thankless field,
If a man were to get no matching yield,
It's not fair calling life a cloud of smoke.
If unrest of spirit’s the sign of life,
Go ahead, it is fine if heart rebels,
Destiny smiles if man works well and rife,
It feels fulfilled if life lives up, excels.
Taking a great deal more than penning this,
It’s not easy sailing through life’s journey,
The road is rough, the load carried heavy,
Take right path, light load, and lo, life’s all bliss.
The goal is far, horizon infinite,
The life if aims to reach the tallest crest,
But if the journey’s broken, made finite,
Between birth and death the aim’s modest.
A lump of raw material seem this life,
To be touched, ennobled, given a shape,
Till modelled to shape with a sharpened knife,
No life a constant honing can escape.
And man is no stranger to wars worldwide,
He scarce knows still: no least of a combat
Life be that walks full length, no waning tide,
To sail through life’s ocean is no child's bet.
Life’s both an ailment and its therapy,
Learn to endure, to live body and soul,
With its vicissitudes all so many,
Shortcut there’s none save leaving it a whole.
And life’s its own wealth, not else there’s in world—
The wealth that no insurance can make safe,
And of no compensation man has heard,
Enjoy, or watch it wasted, mouth agape!
That, life is worth living needs not so proof,
A premise that man must doubtless presume,
And when life lived reaches none its tall roof,
The reason’s not: life was not but a plume.
Of short spells, but life runs full marathon,
Results can’t be seen and the journey’s long,
O Man, therefore keep running on an on,
Be a rare soul that scores, many among.
And all said, what’s life if there be no death?
Life’s a twain of two sides, a coin but same,
Faith in birth breathes unto death its breath,
And death it is that leads to higher aim.
A journey that be infinite, so vast,
Each life is lived in hope: ah here’s my last!
__________________________________________
This is the third and concluding part.
Musings | 03.07.16 | Ode
Copyright © Aniruddha Pathak | Year Posted 2022
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