Origin is divine with traits of Nature
Harmony it desires, friend it adores
Doubly blessed, it serves the creatures
And wears a band of their holy creator.
But almost its benediction, on a coerce follower
Who performs its drill with painful worshipping
How an ease obtained by this impassioned follower?
As he prolongs his skill, mid violent gossiping.
Then unfriendly missives, punched on his notes
Gape at him, like a burning scar
Yet scared still, the best he quotes
And tries to shove, his acts afar.
For the common dogma lives in him
Prompts him ever, for the best to come
And much he strains, to answer to win
Now poesy to him, a need become
Its poesy all poesy! Shapes his art
Mere 'store of joy', unfolds his poesy
And several bearings aids him to start
'A dialogue of contentment', spells his poesy.
The sweet repose mid a hectic run
As a pause betwixt two spirited beats
Lets endure our strife in rhythmic fun
Grants ease to a victor, acquires his feat.
Its an order of living, dedicatedly rung '
A fun some times, for musing throngs
It serves a lesson to teeming young
And adorers it saves, from earthly wrongs.
Our counsel in adversity, real friend of us
As misery besets mildly it protests
Lays consecrated plans, to debate and discuss
Promptings it gives when worry upsets.
Its sweet silent indulgence, that transmits
Through the weakest nerves of frail humanity
How many! Ways of life? It unfolds, emits
As a master paints his creativity.
Of high dogma, simple tone
Its prudent note, to men distressed
For illusive longings, they are prone
Keep the 'supreme content' deep suppressed
'The content intimately imbued in them'
But the avarice calls 'acquire and avail' -
- The petty games, they know not when
- Their peace disordered, ignorant! They wail
Then mid dim darkness, dizzily bound
Their false visions, fail to catch
'The Savior figure' drawn around
That this faultless magic, softly sketch.
With keen surveillance kindly eyes
It scans the faults of erring men
Like a tender mother soon replies
To their muddling queries, vaguely then.
At its many apprises, wise man wakes
That fools rebuff as lay man's voice
For instructs the poesy, amends and makes
Our deprivation, too minor concise
Its poesy, poesy! All the way
From old abandoned to modern young
With similar passions similar sway
'A mending tune', echoed, sung.
This poem relates the satisfaction a poet gets in composing and afterwards how he feels when he is not acknowledged. The poem also highlights the significance and value of the poetry. How much has this art being serving the humanity for long.