The trees in the park shimmer,
Everywhere, an even green,
the sunshine- clandestine!
Formless lovers on rickety park benches;
leaves slither amid
supine, mass strewn, lawns,
Children run,
past old swearing men
Summer draws them all in...
The faint music of a pipe
pulls me inward --
There, by an old stone pool
sits a piper...
People pass,
none look his way--
holding mobiles, bikes,
-- chasing dreams
Children lost, in Life's maze...
In all that shunning,
he pipes his song
unmindful,
eyes closed.
Serene.
Composure in a fevered world.
A few small coins
dot the open case.
Is this all he plays for?
If you can close your eyes,
he will take you places,
You can ride the wave of his dreams.
He dreams,
Only, not like you and me;
He smiles as he knows the truth,
Life is never drawn,
With your own crayon.
I stop and revere
the unaffirmed sage.
I listen,
as the music stills the senses.
Life is still,
the world is still,
in that moment-
I know peace...
About the Author
Dr. Bhuvaneshwari Shankar
Member Since: 07 May, 2014
I have a long association with English Language, it's literature and teaching, with a doctoral degree in Literature from Osmania University, and a Diploma in ELT from EFLU. There was a break in my studies due to an early marriage but I returned t...
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