Surface never shows the beauty
Of its pearls at its bottom spread
To embed all treasures sea-bred
In safety at its profundity.
The grace of face not the case
For the assessment one’s wisdom
To know the area of a king’s kingdom
One is not to see the king’s face.
Rock is rugged and rough,
It doesn’t let us know the sculpture
At its depth in the artistic stature,
Sculpted with chisels in stuff.
Don’t look at clay as mud
See the goblet unseen when hidden,
Made in care on the wheel well-laden
Like the ornament with pearls stud,
The log of wood is shabby in looks
See the wooden statue at its deep
To shine annual layers in safe keep
Albeit its carpenter can’t read books.
Unlettered may be the shepherd boy
He turns a judge for a wise verdict
That is far beyond for one to predict
To pronounce it as a boy, sans coy.
What is in it? How would one be?
Big questions on the part of all
To answer them at the clarion call
Before leap, its depth one is to foresee!
Published
POETCRIT
July-Dec-2022 Vol.21 No.11
