Poetry

Owner of a lady, Owner of a saint

By: Harjeet Singh

After a prolonged meditative process,
Having achieved a paramount wisdom of divine,
A saint wandered to see the beauties of world
Where worldliness and mysticism were twine.

Trees on zenith were in a shipshape manner
While viewing their beauty,
He hosannaed(praise) the Maker of those.
As they were on their duty.

Vast lake hindered his direct path.
Hemmed in by fetching flowers.
Brackish water was worthwhile for masses.
But awash situation could wreck everything in few hours.

Again angel eulogised the Creator surprisingly.
By shank’s mare arrived at fields.
They were laden with pacification and serenity.
To mankind God gifted the shields.

There saw the crowning greenery of season‘s growth.
Salubrious for eyes and for health.
On the terms of wordiness, he thanked Lord.
After harvesting, it was to bring wealth.

At last he stopped to see the beauty of a lady.
And was bowled over, he surprised at Constructor.
Feet stationed and eyes didn’t break continuity.
Her beauty triumphed over previous structure.

Combing blonde hair she went into chamber.
And groused about, ’someone is without shame’. Seething with anger king came out, how dare you see.’
‘You know not, I am a king of titanic fame’?

Allegation of constant evil gaze was studded.
Before corporal punishment he was put in irons.
Time was fixed for lapidation.
Spiritually blind digintary(king) was without concerns(worries).

Honest evidences effused from saint’s heart.
‘I didn’t admire her, her pulchritude but only her Maker’
Hearable aspects were ignored as inaudible.
After pounding the drum with slayer saint covered the distance of acre.

Before trial, a sarcasm flowed out of an injured soul.
‘O Lord! Your praisers in this world are treated so high’!
Right away, king ousted from royal chair.
Scene of execution with cries was withdrawn from public eye.

With scattered hair, queen’s eyes drooled like a running brook.
O fakeer, O saint what did you do?
‘A loud boo! you killed my owner, my helpmate.
But then, ‘oh daughter! your reckoning is not true’.

You prided in the potency of worldly surly owner.
I was proud of my Owner’s power.
You both initiated unwelcome fracas.
But my Owner ended it forever.

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Categories: Poetry

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