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Each day as we wake up to life and its chores , we need one force that drives us into following the tedious routine we had carried out the previous day . This force though derived from something as small as our favourite alarm tune, has immense power to keep us at work the entire day and more .
Gradually this source of energy becomes the centre of our activities and motivates us to keep pursuing them . This poem is am account of a meadow that I have seen each day of my school life and how it has taught me to see the the same old life in new perspective each day.
Every morn on my mechanical steed,
I pass through a lush green mead,
where a herd of dappled cows –
graze soporifically
under the heavy boughs –
of peepal and banyan .
And here and there a squirrel plays;
about a jutted peepal root,
and seldom an entire dray;
circles round the budded grove .
Then the motley coloured buds
untouched by the dust and soot
awake from their misty sleep
and uncurl into flowers beau.
By and by a group -of varied coloured plumes;
lend their voice to their words
and let the words fall into tune.
whilst the infant ball of gas-shows up from the cottony dunes
This- the entire view
gives me hope and strength renewed
and makes my mind linger on
to be party to the resplendent dawn…