I marvel, and not

I marvel at the beauty of kindness, Beauty of charm born of child’s smile, What pleasure it renders to see Its imprint etched for a long mile. I love no less goodness of a kind soul That outlives life of mortal flesh, A witness that does everything Till flesh hath turned into scorched ash. I marvel at a falling autumn leave That leaves, not a word of regret On face, nor of its mother tree That hath evolved, grown to be great. And how can I forget little cuckoo That waits for someone’s views nor clues, And sings, if or not world approves, She hath no use for an excuse. Those that venture ships in silence to launch, Undeterred are by any storm, Not those that hide behind loin haunch, Nor ever wait for weather warm. _________________________________________ Musings |17.04.2024| smile, soul