The way these days and nights come and go,
orderliness they never show ,
for what the decorousness is on pawn,
my dreams curtain alone.
See more clear hopes in newer hues ,
fewer are the rues,
such illustrious vignetting I have seen,
to you still unseen.
not to be concealed from their motherly soul,
its our ensemblic role.
I dont drag you or I chase,
come! the curtains raise.
That little bird I see, to fly
it cries and dries the wings,
restless hollow eyes in search,
for conciliating sun to come up bright,
but clouds keep passing over by.
Pecks at phoenix feathers often,
some very few it has, for life
to frighten death if comes,
and When threatening thunders try.
Allured and fancied in its dream
Keeps flapping those little eager wings,
in readiness for the joy of life,
to fly and fly and flying high.
