All philosophers true to the study will go mad some day.
But then again, it is Normal that defines Mad.

Life in a festival... (again tentative)


Atop sits the elephant, wise and watchful
Father on his one side, his other
Occupied by his compassionate mother
Their neighbours, each of four hands
Look down on the world, asserting
Their greatness at the top, the beginning
A level below stood the lusty blue youth,
Rounded by the girls dancing, in merry
And joy, their eyes glowing
To his side, lay a mirror invisible
Ten in fact, each portraying in difference,
Him, in all His glory and power within
By his other side sat his wife
With her friends, each a beauty;
A power; a woman; a deity


Then came the saints; one, two, three,
On their divine way
Devotion in their hearts, wisdom in their say
And then, the mortals, a variety of them at that
A wedding, a worship, a game,
A parade to the temple came
Down below sat the merchant
His wife beside; goods all about
Gleaming smile and a belly wide
And below all were the villagers.
Dhobis; a farmer; a snake charmer on the side.
Working their lives off until they died.


And as the girl looks at her art created
Her mind wonders.
How the world is so alike her art
She watches and ponders








2 comments:

Boa said...

No prizes for guessing the theme of THIS poem :p But this is as subtle as I could make it. For now.
:p

PARIKSHITH said...

very good imagination really!