This Precious Gift

 

               

                             

                                      

          This precious gift with which I play

             A trivial toy, a meaningless sport;

             Indeed, throwing away the costly pearls

             Into cinders of nothing; none to account.

             This precious breath we waste in empty sounds.

             To pollute and slander others.

             This gift which can reveal the spirit

             Beneath our senses, meaningful depths;

             This precious strength and spark we consume.

              In degrading ways, self-imprisoned idle pleasures

              Leaving behind, alas, an inner penury.

               As age engulfs with fangs of disease

               We curse in vain our crooked past

               Spent in worthless acts at expensive cost.

               This boon, this only chance with reason fraught

               We spend like airy nothing in worthless ways;

               The secrets of existence unexplored

               Without a solid foundation we hope

               To build our uncertain future;

               Without understanding Nature

               Without thrill of noble thoughts and devotion

               We drive our days downhill to doom;

               No lotus within our bosom blooms

               No coiled secrets do we unwind;

               In wretched chains we ourselves bind;

               Oh God! How can we account for thy gifts!

               A rudderless journey adrift;

               Time’s nearing threat we hear

               Till now our vision and goal unclear;

               What ransom avails to clear our debt?

               Once lost is lost forever. What our fate?

               We blame to justify our erring ways;

               Do we deserve in truth almighty grace?

               This precious gift we ought to care and know

               Of what we are, a spark of divine glow;

               With mercy, love and piety dwell

               Thy life, a kernelled fruit but not a shell

               Work first, you need not ask;

               God knows His mighty task.

                            *******************

        31st December, 2023                         Somaseshu Gutala