From the meads of night
Stars are peeping unto a temple ground.
And upon a stone pillar
A solitary earthen oil lamp
Struggles through her last phase.
A distant bark, a singular footstep,
A sudden cry of a bird-
All the lamps are gone in the wind
But this delta of light
Solemnly torches the night.
Conically below her the shadow falls,
It dances in the wind.
Her bright yellow is now point red,
She is in a palmy battle with the wind.
The wind now leaves for the distant dales,
In a moment she returns to life.
For the benefit of one and two passersby
It has given her a lease of life.
And there- she lights the night dimly
Burning a better life than the distant stars.
Ravi Panamanna
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-glorious-life/
