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An evocative poem by Arun, in Different Truths.

The best of my efforts
Gets me naught;
All that's tough
Becomes no more so.
 
A delightful day
Leads to a dreaded night;
A stormy, scary night
Begets a sunny day.
 
A year in the womb
Goes up in vain;
An infertile mother
Smiles again.
 
When a farmer's toils meet
A summer's storm,
You dash the hopes and
Stifle lives, with no qualm.
 
Mature few can endure
Your pangs, and the new,
Must persevere until
They mature still.
 
Your permanence,
The lone certainty;
Is it you that Truth
Disguises by?

Picture design Anumita Roy

#Poem #Uncertainty #Summer #Permanence #Lone #DifferentTruths


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