We recount tales in melody
Suffused to matter that bears a force;
A force that is named,
a canticle, a hymn.
Obliged to serve with a verse,
Played as the universe expanded from a nutshell;
The collision of the planets together and drifting apart again.
This is the canticle,
that was played when life began;
Took a while,
When Pisces fled to land
as quadruped and in course,
Ended up to a reasoning being
That laid his hand on
a bone and made a tool,
Relearning what a colour was and what it meant
to feel agony.
This is the canticle,
that rests on the love making
between a man and a woman,
passionately embracing each other under the leafy shade
of an oak tree.
This is the canticle,
that was played when Moses
split the Red sea for the Israelites
in the Exodus,
And Jesus being crucifixed
on the cross of his faith;
Apprising his father
at the end that those people
didn't knew any better.
This is the canticle,
Thta was played
when Caesar's acquaintances
stabbed him to death,
Impacting a new history.
And when Socrates told his protégés
to man up
Before drinking hemlock.
This is the canticle,
that was played when Beethoven,
triumphantly composed
till the ninth symphony
Without a decibel being heard.
When Kafka set the seal
On to his magnum opus.
And when Georgia O'Keeffe painted skulls;
While Pollock delineate strokes of paint
in a frenetic dance.
This is the canticle,
that was played
when we wiped
the remains of the great war;
and in the truces between,
Mankind forged warheads for hegemony.
This is the canticle,
that will be played when we cure cancer,
When we subside pain;
learning to be more compassionate
And pacifying without leaving a gap of strife.
This is the canticle,
that will be played
when the last human breathes his last,
To the falling of last petal
on the deserted ground
of the last flower.
And the last sunrise,
Which will illuminate glow
until it ruptures to its doom;
thereby, rewritting Cosmos.
Moreover its just a canticle,
Which spring in all phase,
encompass in strides
And accompanies each
lives like the tributary
of both damage and temperament.
Never eluding from us,
It leisurely binds us
to a commonplace
of a kind.
Its a song that we all hear once in a while.
Its a song that is omnipresent.
Its a song that propels
in celebration to the misery
And if we are keen to conscious,
Nature abiding and calm;
We shall hear it too.
And it will,
One day
or the other,
Reincarnate the songbird of a soul
that lies beneath the tapestry of riches.
Amazing!!!