Mundane

From all the light that the earth touches,

Simba was more intrigued in the dark spaces...

For when given some things on a silver platter,

It's value is lost without the effort on the bond.

Not that we must lose to gain,

But we must get lost to realise it's claim,

For when we are found post losing again,

We understand what we have all within...

This dance with self, through our elements around,

It's the work we put in for our essence to be found...

For lost and Found are two concepts abstract,

More like man made creations of providing a track...

A line to follow, and what if we let go,

A line is drawn aimlessly and sooo?

What's wrong is ensuing in the chaos that follows,

Maybe a pattern doesn't emerge tomorrow?

Maybe we need more thought in our marrow?

Maybe a seed to nurture and burrow?

Maybe some deeds we can't blindly follow?

Somewhere if freed, comes a blinding hollow.?

Somehow we need the light to say hello?

Someone is key so we can blame and wallow?

What if we agree, even if a god does exist,

We can't leave unexplained our characters amiss!

We can't heave and pray when uncertainty and us kiss!

We can't wave goodbye to self accounting and feel bliss...!

For we haven't put in the light that will be remiss,

In the dying flame, if we don't add our toil and insist,

The flame of the surroundings which we pray,

As it fuels our fires and fans out flames..

As we take and receive in essence a one way street,

We must take our place in the circle, for life to repeat...

If we take we give back and vice versa a balance,

Why before, what is the critical challenge..

For when the circle does complete, 

Our ending, her travel does the earth hum deep..

- The one who misses the Rain!