Sunday Poem By Dattatreya Datta

Up and Down

Climb up and go down
Let’s play merry-go-round.
When water flows down
It leaves its trace back,
When tears roll down
It leaves its remark.
When lands slide down from the mountain
It leaves the prove of its destruction behind,
When leaves fall off
It leaves the bare branches and nothing would make it bind.
Climb up and going down
Let’s play merry-go-round.
When water flows down in low-tide after its high-tide
It leaves dry rotten particles, old or new leaves, freshly blossomed fragmented or bygone flowers and more side by side.
Sea flaunts then gets mum;
Sun rises then sets;
Volcano growls, fiery lava flows down silently;
Wind accumulates strength and eventually calm down;
Nothing can make them bound.
Going up and coming down
Let’s play merry-go-round.
Everything leaves its trace behind
But when a human soul flips and falls down,
You would barely detect it
Because they possess different sets of minds.