Once such rare a lotus was born
In the dirt of a sacred pond
Waiting clear sky on clouded morn
To bloom and with Bumblebee bond.
But dark clouds played their assigned part
Stalling wish of the lotus bud
When would this but be a new start?
The bud awaited, stalked in mud.
But, Time, see, the Mistress of Verse,
Who hidden desires fulfils all,
Unbounded grace that lifts the curse
Decided to end the clouds’ sprawl.
Thus flooded in rays of the sun
With message one such pure seen
Reminding the bud like ere none
To blossom into the flower keen.
The rays of sun but verses sing,
And in this strange tale music chime,
And the warm message of love bring
To remind, it is but high time.
As the bud but began to bloom,
Fighting the whorl of petals closed
Asked again, but open for whom?
See a question but how well posed!
Inert long when one stays alone –
Pains to change the position same,
Practise is but a battle lone
Going on in this Divine Game.
For the fight sometimes a doubt casts
Questioning the act in itself
For what’s there that forever lasts?
Why should the bud then expend self?
The bud but then Illusion meets
Searching purpose of existence
Doubting its self worth, perplexed sits,
Would Black Bee truly show presence?
Is this a crooked act by thief
Or an elaborate hoax, say?
Between belief and disbelief
But torn is the bud in gameplay.
But what the bud yet doesn’t know
It’s only born to bliss process
Such is but the natural law,
For, bud to flower blooms always!
And in Time’s flow of power play
As the bud then begins to bloom
The Bumblebee comes to say
It awaits for bud to abloom.
Flying around in rhythmic moves
The Bumblebee dances around
Close, then far, then closer, it grooves,
Humming the primordial sound.
The Bumblebee, Master of Game,
Comes along, and then nowhere found,
Teasing bud, calling by love’s name,
Yet coded in the nameless sound.
The bud but hears just a faint sound
For heart of bud see is inside,
Six stigmas that at centre found –
Are six powers that there but hide.
The true test is but of belief
That the Black Bee is always there,
This yearning to meet that heart thief
Tells bud to open up sans care.
As petals open one by one
Comes along but a fragrance faint
Calling the Bumblebee alone
Focusing itself, like a saint!
When the bud into flower turns
And bloomed in all its glory stays,
Towards it the Bumblebee runs,
See, such has been true always!
The Bumblebee when a kiss steals
From golden heart of Lotus, see,
All existence a pure bliss feels
A moment turns eternity!
—
Swetansu Mohapatra (Aug 2021)
Awesome Swetansu!