A Tryst with the Sun Temple
You grew in the womb of silence
like an embryo
until the propitious day came
as a mother begets a new born
after much shudder and pain
you are born
when my men bore the pangs
and their hammer ran
you sit like a monk in silence
while your spirit is in constant communion
to unravel the mystery
of life, and death
where Time works on
as a catalyst of connection
you thrive with time and you are above time
when your silence voices
a greater lesson to modern men,
who instinctively run
and get ruined with their bestial passion,
'rise above the mire of
sex, and sensuality
and don’t beat the wings in the great void
of gain, loss or pain,
but rise above
the maze of fire
and bear the indomitable spirit
that eternally smiles
and spreads
to become a bower for
the tottering man'
leaving my all drudgery and pain
when I sit and ear
on the contour of thy majestic stone
million words vibrate
and they enkindle
my spirit and my thought
when they whisper that-
silence begets art
and grows with
a sharpened thought
and with the beauty of a humane heart.
© P.K. Panda, Odisha, India.
Photo Credit: Google/to the rightful owner.
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