Hope is a Bird Wordless that Sings
Unlike first rains on dusty countryside,
No lasting pathways etched are by despair,
But hope comes like a first shower to guide,
To give ample hints— how to go and where.
And a way out appears from nowhere,
With hope in heart walked have we endless miles
On desert stretches, pathless lone that veer,
In darkling woods as in deserted isles.
Like migrating birds that on wide wings ride,
Hope seems to come on one’s own latent dare,
Singing joyous spring songs if fear to hide:
Worry's no fond word, fall a far-off affair,
In hope man casts fishnet, wishes to snare,
To them to whom a begging bowl beguiles,
Oyster pearls get caught in their fishnets bare,
Let dark woods dare, to him in hope fate smiles.
Yet, those that in great fear for time would bide,
Tied up limbs and minds in ropes nigh threadbare,
Whence, wonder I, would hope come with due pride,
How would hope fount in a despair-filled air?
It's hope, life survives from all wear and tear,
Hope, to walk free from edge of knife, time’s wiles,
And hope ‘tis that makes life easy to bear,
When darkling woods dare and life itself riles.
Envoi
So how raindrops on dust never despair,
The first rainfall in hope has carved out isles
In its diligent due concern and care,
That darkling woods dare, nor life ever riles.
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Musings (Ballade)| 02.02.2011 | hope
Copyright ©
Aniruddha Pathak
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