I need a bit of sky so mead;
a view that my eyes pleade,
to have when it is possible,
to look at and feel so small,
that makes me to do what all !
The infinite world before me,
through this bit so glee and warm,
make me do what is good for me,
and keep up my mind shrewd or calm.
A bit of sky is all that was,
For hopes of a man who was,
In bed, hospitalised in dose,
Only the window to blue hues.
Made his state out of blues.
Amused! what a bit of sky does.
Once I searched for a house around,
the town to settle and be lightly bound,
I would look at what might surround,
Was there a tiny bit of sky to count,
that was all that I felt to be sound,
And once when it came to be found ,
I could decide ,watch and be around.
The umpteen thousand channels on air,
on TV, radio and mobiles that go on flare,
All needed a bit of that sky so bare;
Not for the beauty, not to care,
A channel of air had tonnes to bear.
Naked to the eye it is an invisible lair,
Of wildness that teases and dare.
All need a bit of land to gain,
to grow, to plough, to grow again,
the seeds that sustain, rely and regain,
to live, to use, to die and be still lain,
to see that all the travail went in vain.
Once a lion with an awesome mane
Would lay dead in its own lonesome bane.
A bit of mind, of yours, to share is what I ask,
to understand and unveil that which is in mask.
To know, to acknowledge the value of the husk,
That which is valuable is thrown away by the dusk.
Through lust, ignorance and careless we bask,
In the glory of the deeds that were full in the flask,
That preserves for the time the heat for the rusk.