When beloved friends are drifted away by fateful chance
When wants are extinguished by cruel circumstance
When love turns to mockery and lacerates like a lance
When ideals fly beyond our reach with a deriding glance
We feel forlorn, a single leaf, at the tip of a withered branch
Trembling at every gust of wind, and turns too blanch
The worldly wise who once bewitched the cheering mass
Like fallen mansions dwindle when their days are gone, alas !
Blessed are they who have the gift of gaining succor
Of God, by constant touch of Him, with prayer
They shine without becoming dead with mental strain
They find their bliss, stable, unmoved by loss or gain ;
Yet this requires a humble mind which harps on Lord
Above these maddening joys and woes, unchained and unbarred.
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24th November, 2016 Somaseshu Gutala
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