Where goes the velvet feet of darkness,
When land lights with beauty of sight.
Does blowing wind reaches the other side of sea,
And feel someone dreaming in solitude like me.
His grace is seen or His grace is felt,
Like whispering leaves with words of pine.
Can any poet paint His silence with words,
When his presence seen is so reverence.
Is he the fated man of men,
Who overhears anybody’s whispering soul.
How is it to be a bird and fly,
With no restrictions so unnatural, unreal
Has the moon pays for the light it borrows,
Do we tax ourselves for air we breathe,
Do I ever light the candle of divine wisdom,
And extinguish the desire of my undone quest.
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This poem was published by the times of india,lucknow.
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