Elsewhere thou wert born with thy dispositions born of HIM,
Might be with the galaxy of blossoms flocked with song birds,
Might be among chiming streams brimmed with fishes.
Might be drenched in tuneful showers of grace.
My heart hath perceived thy childhood painted in thoughts
Right now painted in my words of magic incredibly.
Butterflies hover above thee sprinkling colours upon thee,
I hear gallops in thy quick steps as stallions trot,
So sweet as of the Nightingales with their melodies,
Serene, I believe, are thy words adorned with innocence,
Young as the tender shoot looking ahead of blossoming,
Thy words, I believe, knit with philosophy still to gain,
Amiably caressed thou art with the West Wind,
And I read Shelly’s mind in his ‘Ode to the West Wind’
So swift and amicable traversing ‘cross the horizons,
Child-like etiquettes, I believe, crown thee to stride ahead.
Thou art a star seen in the expanse of my inward eye,
May be a way of life to perceive thee ‘cross the sky,
Thou art a child still unto me and I am thy friend.
We’re all awake of HIS Way of Creation, a mystery to say,
Everyone learns the truth that the world is round,
And we all meet where we begin our journey.
And let our journey shall be led by the ONE WHO created us.