Won an independant award in 1991. |
Sprinkled droplets of chance Along the path we walk on. Those we whisk up in time, shower Our consciousness with blazing colors Sprouting from the prism of life; Angles of heaving light, struck With the sunny beams of exploding light Stun us, then spread-eagle us On an unknown path; and after a while Having tread over that path, we naive humans Fools that we maybe, conjure A confiding thought, bubbling with suspicion Marking for our own, the milestones That destiny thew in our way. We declare Our winnings, our victories, claiming That our wisdom did crown us And shower us with measures To scale the hidden heights. We, the victims, declare To be the victors of Destiny. Our destinies, we say, are subjugated To command and to direct. While, all the while, Destiny Stands askance, smiling and pitying Men are fools but the Wisdom knows How wise the wise would be, if Destiny decided to suffocate Ere the wise could breathe a breath Of wisdom; and we watch our destinies Overtaking us, and our hallucination Shrinks to tatters, freeing us of our folly, Lifting our blindfold, and then We underwrite a truce, a compromise That when we are crowned, knighted, Destiny would not yawn But hide its mirth, and hand us To the Grip of History. |