How long will bear my heart, in throes
Of life, its lures, and the rest called pain
Except for the seed, that love’s labor sows
Of the splendor born, to ever-remain!

That frame on wall, with a canvas alive
It breathes verve, into, my senescence
The hues of life, as it happens, revive
That child, which died, of decadence!

What could be more, vista sublime?
Than solace kissing, horizon’s edge
When time ceases, to be a paradigm
Of death – life’s perpetual pledge!

Still springs my rainbow, on the tomb
Of the lust for life, its lasting qualm
Still lingers beauty, mirth’s aplomb
When I unbolt, My Window To The Farm!

© 2017 Vikas Chandra