Bibliojohn Poem by Indranil Bit

The earth is ready to wake;
The dawn is ready to break;
The black is ready to fade;
The dew is ready to shed;
What is John doing now?
Is he still in his bed!

When mist canopies the trees;
When flakes canopies the ravine;
When leaves canopies the lawn;
When hues canopies the slopes;
What is John doing then?
Is he still in his dream!

As wheels get tired to rattle;
As birds get tired to sing;
As lives get tired to stroll;
As harps get tired to string;
What is John thinking now?
Is he still in his mind!

When birds take flight on way back;
When rays take slants on hillock cap;
When young take play on brainy sack;
When tombs take pray on belief’s lap;
What is John struggling now?
Is he still in his canvas!

Likewise the silent overpowers all;
Likewise the shadow grows tall;
Likewise the clock gives dozen call;
Likewise the wood has freezing fall;
What is John doing then?
Is he still in his shell!

Beauty is in flow, not in still;
The day bid bye, no way to fill;
An opium tinge, not to chill;
Time is to live, not to steal;
What is John doing now?
Is he still in his hymn!