Wordsmith: On The Wings of Poesy
At times I wish I had wings to fly
And soar above in the azure firmament high
Where I float like a wandering cloud
and holding the hands of fairies
dance with every sigh
Sparrows, butterflies and several chirrupy birds accompany me,
I just float any fly
A hope that propels me
and my wings
With the view to meeting thee.
My imaginative flights, at times, however impeded by mundane shackles
Still remain unfettered
As in this divine pursuit
Nothing else but only you mattered
Shaken out of my fanciful stupor, when wingless, I descend, down in spirits
With a painful shudder
I rush to hug you, mother
Thither in your lap
I find in God and you
No Gap.
Lying snuggled there, as your tender
hand fondles my head,
I feel as if I have slipped into the celestial quilt of stars on a Divine Bed.
— Hitashi Sachdeva