Quill

Once I was one of The lustrous yarn, The yarn that echoes As the bird flew. I embellish the magnificence Of the feathered friend. Then came the tempest. The force that tethered me To the woolly love Sank in its turbulent power. I was imposed to move away. I flew far But recollection coddled me With feelings. Emotions always vaporised me And I slid by the rhythm of air. Me, the stable one In the body of the beauty Moves around without stability. This unsteadiness crafted me With the strong sentiments Of the past. I passed numerous Lands, hills and valleys. I forgot where am I. I glared down. Out of the blue, I saw a pointing finger Of a father And gazing eyes Of a son. Both directed towards me. They were in a deep talk Which would be a lamp In the prodigy’s life. The father’s speech Had seemed like this – Behold the quill. You may have various facilities Which fervours to be Praised, raised and rejoiced In each nook of the world. But let the thought- The magnate’s weight Is like the feather -regorges in your life. These words were the thread That fastened me to the wavy air Which helped me To run my pulse With the blow.