Blood does not know

When it should boil and when turn cool

Anger, pride, and arrogance

Are ‘prized’ possessions of a fool!

Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, a renowned poet and writer from Chandigarh, India, shares his mystic poetry

Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, based in Chandigarh, is an Indian poet and scholar credited with 170 plus books of English literature, philosophy and spirituality. He won great Serbian Award Charter of Morava and his name adorns the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. He was honoured with Seneca Award LAUDIS CHARTA by Academy of Arts & Philosophical Sciences, Bari, Italy 2024. He is Founder President of the International Academy of Ethics and conferred Doctor of Philosophy (Honoris Causa) by University of Engineering & Management, (UEM) Jaipur. Email anandjs55@yahoo.com

Biblio-link: https://sites.google.com/view/bibliography-dr-jernal-singh/home   

THE RACE OF LOSERS

Gods lent a splash of dignity to flowers

Graceful pride to peacocks

And motiveless malignity to eagles

Scorpions, whales and snakes.

 

What keeps them away from sin, however,

Even if thy kill and maraud

Is their hunger,

On which they perform no fraud.

 

What is peculiar to human beings

And what among animals

Looks so odd

Is arrogance which brings men to naught!

 

Let us not forget what animals

Perform in their calm

We too perform to their Will

Though later suffer the qualm.

 

Blood does not know

When it should boil and when turn cool

Anger, pride, and arrogance

Are ‘prized’ possessions of a fool!

***

THE INSPECTION

The nightwork was complete

Before the customer arrived

He lifted the covering

And found

The entire earth breathing fresh.

 

The previous day’s signatures

Were rubbed off

There were no scars

And soon the sun would arrive

On daily inspection.

 

The earth knew

How to welcome the NAAC team

Of winds, carrying on their back

Bees, butterflies

And birds, who sang in gay abandon.

 

She places flowers here, fruit there,

Some plants which smelled sweet

As she knew man was coming

At the head of the

Holy fleet

 

Man touched the leaves

Laden with dew drops

Heaved a deep breath

And said

Aaah.

And touched the feet of his mother earth

 

Looked up, thanked the sky

Prayed to the sun,

And blessed the ants,

Birds, and kathbiralis*

Before he returned to his race eternal.

(*squirrels)

__________________

Read: The Egotistical Sublime – Mystic Poetry from India