The Cup of Life

I, so busy and tense,

All the time,

Producing and reducing

While the sun shines.

I, so busy am I,

That I see but never look

At the all-pervading beauty of life.

I search but never see

That baby smiling up at me.

It’s not that my eyes aren’t open,

It’s due to a shut inner eye

Which causes nature’s beauty to simply pass-by.

Daffodils are beautiful,

But so is the first ray of the sun,

Peeking thru’ the white clouds.

It’s not only the crisp morning breeze

Which brings a new breath of life,

But also the sparrow’s sweet call,

Which I have never heard.

I, so busy am I,

That I never counted

The drops that each day takes away

From my Cup of Life.

An empty cup,

A shut eye,

This I will be reduced to ashes,

And the bones of I immersed in the Ganges.

Wish I had seen the day,

When I will become, for nature,

Nothing but child’s play.

I, so busy am I,

So busy am I…