Shall I say to my poor heart
Pray, keep still
Have you not learnt from the past
That you should not jump so fast
You might lose your way
And break into a thousand pieces
You might bleed
You might even lose your creed
Shall I say thus to my heart
Should it be that life starts to rhyme with love
Fragrant is the smell of love
Peaceful is its vision
Sometimes it is imbibed with treason
Sometimes it happens for no reason
Sometimes it is simply meant to be
Sometimes it fades off without even beginning!
Keep yourself still and steady
For the unexpected, keep yourself ready
The aim might be genuine, so, pray, do smile
Such is needed to walk the blessed mile!
I shall guide you,
I am, after all, the mind
Without which life and its seasons would be a mystery
Without me love itself would be misunderstood!
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