The Old Man & His Flute

Wearily, wearily, was I walking around

With nothing on my mind, to do

When lo! I found myself stepping on to

A piece of beautiful ground.

Merrily, merrily, did I look around,

The treasure that I had just found.

In that meadow full of sunshine bright

Enjoy I did, the heavenly sight

Walking about the sunflower crowds,

Gaily under an umbrella of clouds

Enchanted I was by a melody

That seemed to be calling me from afar.

T'was an old man and his flute

Serenading serenely, but now turned mute.

'Pray, O Babaji, carry on,

Let me not make the tune be gone'

For, a tune it was divine.

'Child,' uttered the ageless sage

With a love so deep, I could not manage.

His eyes, throwing on me a timeless gaze,

Left me in a daze.

Though he was quite unfazed,

By the dramatics I had just staged.

'I am not the melody maker.

Just as you are not its breaker.

The crashing wave and the smooth river,

Have been different never ever,

In heaven' great symphony.

Flowing since eternity,

It is but an opportunity.

To make a choice and give voice

In being nice, without a price

Set the pace to build a place

For everyone to receive the golden grace.

To leave footprints in the sand,

Needs many a willing, lending hand.

You must rise to touch the skies

Dropping the vice, as you realise,

Cold feet never took anyone yonder

Nor beautiful ambitions that stayed tender.

Not far away is your home

To take you where, I have come.'

The grasp of that revered one

Felt like a new day at break.

As if the scene had been long foregone

But lived once more, for my sake.

And then came a sprinkling of stardust

That wrapped me up

Melting me into the mists of time.