I Am No Bubble On A Vagrant Wave Poem by Mohabeer Beeharry

One little wave
Wets my bare feet
And leaves behind traces of white foams;
In the homing evening, they scintillate,
A thousand suns vying.
I watch them burst, one by one,
And wonder what it all means!
For nothing passes without reasons;
A certain message tucked somewhere
In the folds of this ever changing vista.
Releasing my mind from its local shackles,
I tread strange lanes and unknown pathways,
Heaving deserts and seething seas
In search.
We are they say like candle flames
At the mercy of inscrutable destinies!
Children of accidents,
Moths destined to end in burning lamps
Bubbles bandied on the crests of vagrant waves!
But not me!
I am neither a moth nor an unfortunate candle flame!
Neither an unfortunate bubble nor a creature of accident
I am me!
The one who is unborn
And who never dies
Who cannot be slashed
Nor be destroyed!
One to whom the past, present and future has no meaning!
One who even time celebrates;
For whom this universe was made,
The sun shines
And the light of the stars burns!
For me the rain falls,
And the flowers bloom,
Rivers run and the woodland brooks sing!
For me saints and avatars descend from their heavens!
He who understands this truth,
Understands why this beautiful universe was bestowed unto man!