The Old Man & His Flute
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.