Tuesday, July 26, 2005

The Sensitive Skill

The difference between
Me and him
He's wise yet I
Am wiser still.
Not in the way
The laureates are
Simpler
In a village way by far.

His might herculean
His mind so swift,
Achilles, Alexander, Arjun-like his skill.
He knows not though

Neither reached the heights
A dear father achieved
To endure my sullen whims.

I know he's as deep
As his heritage allows...
Not deep perhaps
Like the ocean of my love;
Yet a wholesome smile
At my warm but uncooked rice
Would've made him king
Earned him the land of my soul.

(c) VedicVerses

2 comments:

Abhi abhi said...

Would've made him king
And earned him the land of my soul

Just those two lines tell the whole tale. They are a poem in themselves.

Marc said...

Loving it!