I do Believe...

I do Believe…

A simpleton’s plea to all.

By

Sweta Singh.

…Despite all evidence to the contrary,

That there will come a day,

When religion will be of no import,

Mutual respect and kindness

Will be far more valued.

A day shall transpire,

When looks will cease to matter,

Compassion and humility,

Charity and heartfelt aid,

Will hold more allure.

A day shall arise,

When one shall really love one’s neighbors…

Not just through their good times!

No mocking fingers shall be pointed,

In times entailing empathy.

.

A time will come,

Where genuine politeness

Will cease to cause gasps of astonishment.

Please, sorry and thank you,

Shall be in vogue forever!

An epoch will draw forth,

Without caste or creed,

Or racism or greed,

Where children will be listened to,

We shall understand their needs.

In the time I speak of

Arrogance will be condemned,

As will mistrust and hypocrisy,

No one will judge their fellow man, or scorn their ideals

And we shall be individuals again.

In this era of utopia,

We shall all have a square meal

No one will die of hunger,

While those alive eat meat.

Not a soul will sleep hungry.

But how will this change come about?

Until we each are at peace within?

And look at the bigger picture,

See the horrors in the world we’ve built,

Recognize our intense, unapologetic pettiness?

Why must it take,

Bloodshed and gore,

For us to realise,

We’re all bound at the core?

[even those we deem hateful]

By The One with wisdom evermore,

Not by country, caste or religion,

But a force infinitely more

Compelling, everlasting.

Why must we grab,

That which was never ours to take, nor give,

But meant to be shared

[our greed prevents us]

And how does it end?

In death, destruction and tears.

What is worth more than an innocent life?

[suppose its YOUR beloved.]

Is pride?

Is power?

Are possessions?

Ask yourself this,

Can a hand clap alone?

Many shall ridicule me,

Say I’m utterly absurd, my thoughts obscure.

Call me what you will…

Nonetheless I beseech you,

Take heed.

Some will, I know,

Not deride my notions,

Maybe see their reflection,

And come to the conclusion,

No time is ever wrong, to do what is right.

For I do believe

Despite all evidence to the contrary,

Like many others,

In the ultimate goodness

Of man.

Of spices and souls.

I am cinnamon,

He is cardamom,

And in the disparities

Of our nature’s,

We are as one.

He is a gentle

Zephyr of sweet air,

I am the truth...

Burning your tongue.

Too delicious to spit,

Just yet.

While he is calm

I rage tempestuously.

His anger is silent,

As is my support.

Where each of us

Falls short,

The other fulfills.

Our blemishes,

Remain unechoed

In our spirits.

{Mercifully}

Cardamom will calm you,

Cinnamon will rouse passion,

But in a cuppa char’

What is but one without the other?

In a most similar fashion,

What am i without him?

Or he sans me?

Tranquility without ardour

Is but placidity!

Unbridled zeal,

Is sheer fanaticism!

Action exclusive of thought

And contemplation without effect.

I could persevere,

Vis a vis

spices and souls.

Suffice to say

I am in him

With him i stand

Complete.

With me he is untamed

We found our genuine essence.

Our destinies entwined,

Firmly knotted

By someone wise!

As one.