Snow In London 1962

Snow in London 1962

How lovely the snow is falling,

From the dull and hazy skies.

Like millions of merrily dancing,

Pretty and intoxicated butterflies.

The snow flakes and floats with the wind,

Hardly colliding with one another.

Contemplating, it delights the mind,

And the drunk thirsty eyes both together.

Playing with are the children joyfully,

I wished I were among them in this mood.

But this big childhood coyly and shyly,

Melted away in the day dreaming adulthood.

Mesmerised are my eyes oh bounteous nature!

Still drinking the nectar of your beauty.

How sweetly and gracefully you nurture,

With love and bliss and above all ecstasy.

If life is a dream then this scene is not real,

But the heart is thrilled admiring His creation.

Why the mind has stood still to heal,

The wound caused by His great hallucination.

For hours on end I would watch and admire,

The Creator's play of consciousness.

Merging into Him what else do I desire,

Into the ocean like the river with restlessness.

It's white and white and only white everywhere,

Nothing is so delightful before my sight.

Even the thrilled mind is not aware,

Of its pranks now fixed on the snow so bright.

Snowing had I never seen before,

Only heard its stories with wrapped attention.

Like a child before the sea shore,

Admiring the vast sea and the wonder of creation.

If one wishes to see more in this beautiful world,

One has to live long and wander to wonder.

Life is short and art is long we were told,

So make the most of it , wake up and ponder.

I too expect to see more in this world interesting,

That I never experienced before in my life.

Now I stop this pleasant and amazing snow gazing,

And start playing as it were this words strife.

Ending here, I promise to write more if,

Opportunity strikes again on another page.

This was only a scribble in brief,

And made it short and sweet as goes the adage.

Lekhram.