A Gift To The Dejected Poem by mohanan viswambharan Nair

I
which gift is to be chosen?
Baffling for some time in choosing,
Exploring one fit for the very taste,
I stood there in the super mall of life.
II
In the hub-up of life's shopping,
Seeking bliss, what could see only sin,
Hurting while treading on the lawn,
With a thorn in head and the face of sullen,
Healed us under the shade of a love tree,
Where all often wish to rock on the cradle,
Singing the song of silence but a joy to all.
Worn the hat made out of jack fruit tree leaves,
we played Santa clause before all.

III
Feeding the butter cake with wine,
You quenched our thirst and hunger,
At the fall of a piece from our mouth,
Crows quarrelled there in their wrath,
How we wished not to grow old!
For, it might finally keep you exiled,
As we bid to make a new tree of love,
you made the one, the world has never seen.
It was the heartiest gift ever given,
Such one we search here all to return!
He is a gift to the oppressed,
He wants me to be a gift to the dejected.

Mohanan.V.Nair