we rush
we hasten
we trick others’
on way
to reach the top
to win the race
to build the palace
to bejewel the self
the very ‘self’
that would
rot in coffin
or burn in pyre
& still
we rush
we hasten
we trick others’
on way
what a crowd of vice
& fools, we procreate
if only
we could
gain the sense of self
if only
we could
grasp the life within
if only
we could
perceive the whole cosmos
as ourselves
no human or bird would sleep
with borborygmi as melody
no parent would break their arms
or blister their palms
in mines or in construction
industries
no child has to run on
streets
picking leftovers
or bending over roadside dustbins
dragging rags
over meek shoulders
if only
we see
that hungry child
as our own
if only
we see
that low paid worker
as our family member
if only we see
problems of the world
as our own to solve
we the blessed of all’
are able of reconstructing
the world with kindness,
compassion, love
& gratitude.
