think <br />of dark woods somewhere on equator <br />pupil sitting at the porches of huts <br />sweating, perspiring <br />but glittering eyes <br /> <br />roots, beets, tuber <br />and bulbs <br />dust laden fruits and <br />shrubs <br />placed on the earth <br /> <br />milky light <br />breaking the silence of the place <br />through small passages <br />if leaves allowed to enter <br />of big teaks and orchids <br /> <br />peace <br />on every face <br />one might wonder <br />to see how tire they are after collecting day’s food <br />but their face glowing like stars in dark woods <br /> <br />suddenly a figure approached <br />the disciple’s mob <br />equally peaceful face <br />and raised his arms in air <br />with full confidence in the eyes <br /> <br />and one should have seen <br />how the tired souls rise then <br />and lit the fire in the time <br />through the devoted moves <br />they made to their teacher <br /> <br />and drums <br />and flutes <br />and some continental instruments <br />they played <br />they sang <br /> <br />then comes food in earthen pots <br />of clay, of sand <br />they enjoyed the meal <br />like a decent team <br />on a lunch <br /> <br />the place in deep dark <br />seems to be the only alive part <br />until they went to sleep <br />same eyes full of energy <br />same face full of peace <br /> <br />the whole night <br />that figure stayed unslept <br />calm and straight <br />to the next morning <br />when disciples start again in search of food to explore the music, the omnipotent in their own passion<br /><br />Tarun Sharma<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/disciples-2/
