At The Lack Of Words

When I wake on the hands of dawn

And hear the twitters of birds

On the nest gleaming in the golden streaks spread on lawn,

O dear poem, I am at the lack of words.

When the rainbow colours the sky

As the sun peeps through dark clouds,

On the colours seven does this soul fly

Setting the words of you, sweet poem, in bounds.

When I see the rove of butterflies

Borrowing colours from buds

And flying in the noon sun to entice

Then good poem, I am at the lack of words.

When I see the might of flaunty water

And watch all flush in the sabotaging floods.

When I see the plight of all that scatter

My mind sobs leaving me at the lack of words.

Amongst this when my heart leaves

And with voids my mind muds;

When seeking towards ultimacy it heaves,

O dear poem, I am at the lack of words.