The Messiah
© Shilpa Sandesh,
In the unsinkable stillness,
Of the winter night,
When there is nothing but,
Silence to be heard;
When solitude becomes
the sole consort,
When heart is in forage,
for conversation, a colloquy,
But mind seeks quietude,
The dilemma deepens;
The perplexion intensifies,
as to which one to embrace
and which one to release;
Suddenly the tranquillity breaks,
Unconsciousness of the self shatters,
By a grievous cry,
The shrill of a young boy,
Perhaps,
A sufferer of dexterity,
Of fate's wrath,
Of destitution,
Of inadequacy and dearth,
An unparented, lone child;
Oh! what pain has the destiny
showered upon that innocent heart,
Her innerself cries,
Shrieks and bellows,
She fathoms her heart's desire,
Runs and embraces
the tiny bundle of innocence,
And so she becomes
His nurturer,
His protector,
His mother,
She is his Messiah!
In the unsinkable stillness,
Of the winter night,
When there is nothing but,
Silence to be heard;
When solitude becomes
the sole consort,
When heart is in forage,
for conversation, a colloquy,
But mind seeks quietude,
The dilemma deepens;
The perplexion intensifies,
as to which one to embrace
and which one to release;
Suddenly the tranquillity breaks,
Unconsciousness of the self shatters,
By a grievous cry,
The shrill of a young boy,
Perhaps,
A sufferer of dexterity,
Of fate's wrath,
Of destitution,
Of inadequacy and dearth,
An unparented, lone child;
Oh! what pain has the destiny
showered upon that innocent heart,
Her innerself cries,
Shrieks and bellows,
She fathoms her heart's desire,
Runs and embraces
the tiny bundle of innocence,
And so she becomes
His nurturer,
His protector,
His mother,
She is his Messiah!
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