Neelamani Sutar Poet Rhyme

THE PYRE OF PONDERING

Don’t let the mind build fires in the dark, 
Where heavy thoughts leave a burning mark. 
They say that the worry that tugs at your sleeve
Is a pyre waiting for you to grieve. 
It consumes without heat, with a hollow sound, 
Turning your spirit to ash on the ground.

You’ve walked the miles in the sun’s heavy glare, 
Dragging the plough through the stagnant, thick air. 
Months of the labour, the sweat, and the grit, 
Yielding more strength than the candle you lit. 
Yet one flash of anger, a spark in the chest, 
Steals from the spirit its promise of rest.

We break our backs under the harvest moon, 
Humming a tired, productive tune. 
We mend the fences, we gather the grain, 
Finding a solace in the ache and the pain. 
For work is a bridge that leads to the day, 
While worry just stands in the light of the way.

So lay down the baggage, the ghosts in the hall, 
Don’t let the shadow make you feel small. 
A moment of rage costs more than the years 
Spent working the fields through the sweat and the tears. 
Be kind to the vessel, be gentle, be slow, 
And let the cold pyre extinguish its glow.

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