Wordsmith: On The Wings of Poesy

At times I wish I had wings to fly

And soar above in the azure firmament high

Where I float like a wandering cloud

and holding the hands of fairies

dance with every sigh

Sparrows, butterflies and several chirrupy birds accompany me,

I just float any fly

A hope that propels me

and my wings

With the view to meeting thee.

My imaginative flights, at times, however impeded by mundane shackles

Still remain unfettered

As in this divine pursuit

Nothing else but only you mattered

Shaken out of my fanciful stupor, when wingless, I descend, down in spirits

With a painful shudder

I rush to hug you, mother

Thither in your lap

I find in God and you

No Gap.

Lying snuggled there, as your tender

hand fondles my head,

I feel as if I have slipped into the celestial quilt of stars on a Divine Bed.

— Hitashi Sachdeva