An evocative poem by Arun, in Different Truths.
The best of my efforts Gets me naught; All that's tough Becomes no more so. A delightful day Leads to a dreaded night; A stormy, scary night Begets a sunny day. A year in the womb Goes up in vain; An infertile mother Smiles again. When a farmer's toils meet A summer's storm, You dash the hopes and Stifle lives, with no qualm. Mature few can endure Your pangs, and the new, Must persevere until They mature still. Your permanence, The lone certainty; Is it you that Truth Disguises by?
Picture design Anumita Roy
#Poem #Uncertainty #Summer #Permanence #Lone #DifferentTruths