Its like water in the palm,
left open feels cool and calm,
childish of me to try to possess it forever,
tried to close the fist, forgetting it will seep and will stay there never.
Its like the beauty of the flower,
beauty filled in the air trying to defeat the beauty in the color, to get higher,
infantile of me, plucked it, desired to keep it with me,
it spread its fragrance only with its roots, as crafted by its Saviour – Thee .
Its like the play of a child,
described by innocence and steps that go wild,
childish of me to confine it in the discipline defined by emotion,
forgot that though small and frail , the child is an impression of His execution.
Its like the river that flows swiftly,
supported by the mountains, holding them tightly,
infantile of me to ride on religion to take Ganges in a container,
for it was Ganges only with the stream and I remained as always, a mere complainer.
Life has always been beautiful,
only the emotion tank has been at times empty, half or full,
childish of me to measure life in terms of happiness and satisfaction it gave,
for it was meant to be cherished let free, allowed for its own ways to pave.
O Lord, Life seems to be Demystified,
the mist has cleared and nothing feels like sacrificed,
I have grown up to reality now,
childish was I, help me improve, make me understand how?
Gursharan, 10th June, 2006.