the mute lute

8. THE MUTE LUTE---- DR.KGB

On this mute lute,
Who would string the note?
The sweet blossoming sprout,
The ever tranquilizing naught!

O mom, caressing the brilliant dawn,
You sing the celestial spring;
Gleaming to the blooming sky,
Waving to the n-dimensional ring!

Who does weave the moonlight fine?
Who does stream the melodious tune?
Who does play the non playing role?
Who does wheel the ever cycling feel?

The golden fingers thine, O mom,
Always busy, decorating the horizon;
Me the fool, remaining
Meaningless calm;
Doing nil, from one to one till none;
-The doom!
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10- 5- 2012
(Nascent Poetry)