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Writer's pictureMaya Krishnamurty

The Light of Life



As light dispels darkness and truth brings forth light

The light of life is that which pulls us through long nights


Shadows cast, the sun is setting

But the scene that we view is most befitting

Behold! The tree of thought

Under whose branches are three little kids, after a day so hot.


They come a weary way

Kicking a football endlessly through the day

But their head is held high and their will stays on

For the reason to prove themselves is strong.


Just three little kids under a blooming tree

Finding pleasurable ways to spend their time and energy

Oh! What better way than to sing a song

With a violin for company till the sun goes down.


Strumming their thoughts with their fingers

Singing their life with some words

The song is imperfect, calls for better tune

But what matters most is the dreams revealed of reaching the moon.


The joy of simplicity

The innocence of childhood

The buds of creativity

The time spend under the hood.


The manner of performance, the manner of receipt

The beauty which one fails to see in all of life’s rush and meet

Revealed by three young ones, beneath the setting sun

Brings joy to all and sorrow to none.

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