Into the floral garden unmindfully,
Why came the Bumblebee, pray do tell.
Inside the mind in complete privacy,
By fragrance was He overwhelmed.
The firmament and netherworld, all is familiar;
In every place are His frequent visits.
Upon silent nights, lyre in hand,
With a jangle He gets restless.
Forever He's a mystery;
He comes in hope of love's honey.
With rhythm and tune at abode of psyche,
By song He becomes ebullient.
Sarkarverse article
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Monday, June 24, 2024
He moves in search of love
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No mere tourist, music calls to Him; and He comes with song.
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