AT THE END
-
Manas Bakshi (India)
A bee
Drinking nectar of life
From the flower
Of its choice
Seeks no pilgrim soul
Wandering mile after mile
The thorny path
Of ascetic contemplation ;
Churning thoughts divine,
Craving year after year
For another world
Immaculate as
A cherubic child in sunshine
One finds at the end
A valley of numerous spring flowers
But only one
Amaranth inside.
****