AVANT-GARDE
Children cry aloud
When born to a new world
From the comforts
Of a shore that is serene
A wall built on love,
Benign a place, sacred
A voyage in magic
To a colossal certain realm…
Cushioned in a chamber distinct
Days and in moon day nights
Coyly, smiled on a dream
A journey begins
Celestial the light
Heavenly a glide
Valliant a commencement
Sun the light, earth the curator
Cry of a newborn,
Almost certain
A season changed
And river dried
Rarely, very rarely
They cry not..
Like me the one who is born en-caul,
Destined not to cry
Benign the guardian armor,
Born unbroken a fate
Tears, no loud cries
Perhaps, shielded for a cause..
