My life is but a weaving, between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors, He worketh steadily.
Ofttimes he weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside.
Not till the loom is silent, and the shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas, and explain the reasons why
The dark threads are as needful in the skillful weaver's hand
As threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares,
......
I
1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
3 Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
4 Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6 Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
7 Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
......
What was he doing, the great god Pan,
Down in the reeds by the river?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat
With the dragon-fly on the river.
He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep cool bed of the river:
The limpid water turbidly ran,
......
A toy-maker made a toy wife and a toy child.
He made a toy house and some toy years.
He made a getting-old toy, and he made a dying
toy.
The toy-maker made a toy heaven and a toy god.
But, best of all, he liked making toy shit.
A precious little child
Fashioned by God's own hand,
Sweetness that goes unequaled
by the handiwork of man.
A winter baby sleeping calmly
As mountains beneath a robe of white
And winter winds breathe softly
Of God's gift this wondrous little life.
Lord Krishna had told long time ago-
Grave words like the sea not hollow:
"In the time of industrial & modern age,
People would be the birds in a golden cage:
Where they'd born with the wings colouring
But they'd forget the tune of how to singing,
People of modern time would be heartless
They'd be the cause of blame, never confess!
Science & technology would touch the apex
But the root of it like the dead tree fakes,
......
As I stand before the Lord,
I set down my sheild and sword,
Because it's hard to be strong
When God dictates you are wrong,
And what defense is proof
When no one cares what is the truth?
Cuz there's no way to fight,
If God is always right
And the angels stand,
......
sun on autumn leaves
struck it rich with gold on gold
hued blossoms shiver
chill winds wandering
with varicolored birds, far
time's slow surrender
on saying goodbye
nature leaves hued memories
......
Captivating ordinary lives with their hypnotic motions,
Leisurely moving on to eternity through cosmic oceans,
Oblivious colors go by, in the days and in rosy seasons,
Creamy moon and yellow sun, gives joy many reasons.
Kinetically charged, ancient time, with God on its side,
So silken and smooth flowing, like a molten gold slide.
We are characters of different
Stories,
The earth is the stage colored
With tears or gold,
We have been made.
This is a kind of book
And the author of its is the Almighty