During the scalding summer, how much <br />We yearn for a chilling morn drizzle <br />When in the bone biting winter lurch <br />Don’t we pray for a sunny sizzle? <br /> <br />Which season man can bear; I marvel <br />Without a demur, to its full run <br />Yet swaggers he with synthetic preen <br />That he conquered the nature’s riddle <br /> <br />Come storm, Tsunami or some crisis <br />Man at last comes to his consciousness <br />Amidst falling contraptions of his <br />False conceptions and failed finesse <br /> <br />Whence sprouts from the ruins of reason, <br />Rationale and dialectics; the Truth <br />The vital Truth; that’s beyond his breadth <br />To see, feel, deal, conceive and reckon <br /> <br /> <br />On that day when he is at his wits end <br />No way to fight, No where to run and hide <br />He can only seek the help of the Hand unseen <br />And kneel with faith before those Feet divine<br /><br />sathya narayana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-truth-127/
