THE FEATHER : SONNET 171

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 whimsies 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?

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