Tuesday, September 6, 2016

The Rose

One of the first roses that bloomed in my little garden
The following poem was inspired by it. 

Why do you look so penitent
that asked the master
to pluck it without delay
lest it droop and drop into dust?

Aren’t we all made for the dust?

You leave me wondering, however,
whether it’s the same master
that created the night’s worm

Isn’t the worm made for the dust too?


  1. I wish there were roses blooming in my garden too... then may be I can pen some wonderful poetic lines like these. :)

  2. We, the worm, the rose, are all going to dust one day, whether the Master wanted it or not.

    Deep. This one.

    1. Yes, dust is the ultimate reality. In the meantime the worms enjoy the real delights :)

  3. Death makes us same, what differentiates us is the life we live :) And is life worth living without acknowledging each moment?

    1. The lamb and the lion, the rose and the worm... Why did the master have to be so cruel?

  4. Beautiful poem.....liked how you brought Blake and Tagore together.....We are all made for the dust....but till we reach the end, a gentle touch would suffice....

    1. A gentle touch, yes. The Buddha would nod in assent.


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