Beauty in vain
The morning and the soft breeze,
Singing birds chirping in the trees,
The rising sun above the horizon,
Spreading gentle light over bricks of crimson,
Over waving fields and running brooks,
And the gardens with shady nooks.
The dew and the glittering mist,
Giving the grass an hour of zest.
The mountain peaks touching heaven,
Surrounding the calm and happy ravine.
The floating clouds up the sky azure,
Wandering as if trying to conjure.
The deep-delved, clear bubbling spring,
In the twilight occupied by children in a ring.
These and many other country life beauties,
What for when none contemplate the bounties?
When none lead existence above mundane,
When in the grip of routine every person sane?
When to live life is of prime concern,
The soft incense the mind do not discern.
Where the daylight glows and fades,
To see only man entangled in its shades.
When scarcely few have the spark in them,
To fan in appreciation of nature's gem.
How mind would bent and changes wrought,
When pervaded ever by worldly thought?