Chronicles Of Smile
Smiles are of different tinges and contour
A blend of aesthetically carved emotions
Smiles pure blossom like the flowers of a spring
Deep from within they ignite a ray of hope
From the core of a heart that pulsates for life
Like the first droplets of summer rain
Or a dawn that breaks into light
From the dark canvas of night
Smile pure that of a child is priceless
As serene as the fresh due drop of a dawn
In veracity that innocent pure smiles heal
The deepest of deep wounds from its roots
Smile indeed the script less language of our face
To hide to unhide a million random ruptured stances
To deceive a sorrow from its callous frame
Smile can be two faced as contrived as sham
Or as solemn as a sacred prayer
Smiles are of different shades and fragrance
Tramped in a mound set not in proportions
Smiles are of different rhythm and tunes
Of a song that silences the noises
Of an outer annoying world
Smiles are the finest artists of masquerade
And the finest savants of peace
The one beholds the soul
That smile understands the real
That smile is of the innermost being
Divine, the ultimate smile of the supreme.
By Rema Pisharody
