The Feather
Sonnet 171
Life is a feather, light enough for drifts --
Fast when the wind is fast, and slow when slow
The wind does move; yet other times, it lifts
Life to a high, then pressing 'gain to a low.
Thus the waves of life with their each wavelength
Adjust to the whims of the changing weather,
Too humble to withstand the weather's strength.
When windless does the weather go, the feather
Does lose its existence beneath the surface
Of fragility, as the flights of glee
Or gloom, prolonged or short, in the embrace
Of Time do get absorb'd no fuss, completely,
Bidding the Earth a meek but scornful goodbye.
What else does life to sapiens signify?
©️ N P Samal
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