With footprints of time on your breast
Please return the lost child, every moment of glory.
we come to you with a handful of word-seeds
help us grow sprouts of sense and sensibility
the mystic search is knotted in humdrum proclivities
our journey meanders through jungle of learning
a shedload enticements stripe each dawn
ending up with silent solitude, in deep meditation
weariness to weave poems of wonder
surrenders us to you dear Philosopher!