By Atharva Rewatkar
On the horizon, as the Sun does rise,
appeared a face in the bright blue skies
so seraphic, so radiant, blessed with grace
With all of the Beauty mellowed in her face
making my pen fret and frail in its quest
to define her Beauty at the word's behest.
Like the fairest Rose in a valley where it blooms
amidst the rains, swaying in joys and glooms.
Its fragrance plays like a symphony of scent
rejoicing its Beauty in the gales so redolent
Making me fail to understand this divine breeze
defying the words that my tongue decrees.
Like a baby's crackle, so pure and sublime
cloaked in innocence that does brightly shine
Those gleaming eyes, like stars that glow
yet words, to my mind, come and go.
My heart, in yearning, does aspire
to capture this Beauty using the words afire.
In every azure lake where reflections softly sway
which captures the epilogue of that fairest day,
the sunlight mixed into the water gleams
yet my pen falters, lost in elusory dreams
for Beauty evaporates like the morning mist
eluding the grasp of my yearning tryst.
A halo glistens over the moon so rare,
beautified with clouds beyond compare
with its aspects like stars in the astral ballet
yet words, like meteors, glided and swayed
as my mind and pen failed to trace
the Beauty of that opulent night in grace.
Hence, I lay my pen to rest
in reverence to Beauty's quest
because Beauty, like a river, eternally flows
beyond what my mere imagination shows
that no rhymes can cage and no words define
yet in my heart, it shall eternally shine.
By Atharva Rewatkar
Komentarze