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I marvel, and not
I marvel at the beauty of kindness,
Beauty of charm born of child’s smile,
What pleasure it renders to see
Its imprint etched for a long mile.
I love no less goodness of a kind soul
That outlives life of mortal flesh,
A witness that does everything
Till flesh hath turned into scorched ash.
I marvel at a falling autumn leave
That leaves, not a word of regret
On face, nor of its mother tree
That hath evolved, grown to be great.
And how can I forget little cuckoo
That waits for someone’s views nor clues,
And sings, if or not world approves,
She hath no use for an excuse.
Those that venture ships in silence to launch,
Undeterred are by any storm,
Not those that hide behind loin haunch,
Nor ever wait for weather warm.
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Musings |17.04.2024| smile, soul
Copyright ©
Aniruddha Pathak
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