We may be peaceful, when there is noise, <br />Clattering sound of monstrous machines, <br />Rattling fun of relatives of choice, <br />Seldom affect the peace that defines. <br /> <br />Toil soils our body and tires our limbs, <br />Spoil not our peace, but our emotions, <br />Unknowingly every individual climbs, <br />Into the secured dwelling. <br /> <br />When in silent, secured becomes insecured, <br />When on our own again, <br />Memories make the lullaby, <br />Such a vicious villain that we nurtured. <br /> <br />Where to find the peace that Buddha looked for, <br />Under the tree leaving our loved ones, <br />Up in the mountain for a month and a half, or <br />In the caves that have bats and stones. <br /> <br />Love ourselves is the first step, <br />Love those who depended on us, <br />Love those who live beside and far, <br />Love everything that love and hate us. <br /> <br />Life begins not only when we are born, <br />But in every betrayal and abandonment, <br />Take the charge and rule the emotions, <br />As it is always a slave and we are the masters.<br /><br />veeraiyah subbulakshmi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/emotion-is-our-slave/
