To Be One With the World
Curbed, is the joy to dance in soaking rain,
when its descant’s encore mistunes its beat.
Choked, is the charm of flowers fragrant treat,
for lifetimes falter till aromas wane.
Dulled, is the shine of stars in cosmic reign,
once gazing eyes glaze up, as time is fleet.
Hushed, is the bliss that trilling birds entreat,
with ears deceived and well attuned to feign.
So is the child in us, like a sail furled,
alike the blooming bud with petals veiled,
same as the river flows that dams repressed.
Hence, the price paid, “to be one with the world”,
where blurred mores live with ideas curtailed,
the child in us alive and yet suppressed.
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