Everything is everywhere at all the times,
All appear only in time and space's frames;
Nothing is new; nothing, old, but for names,
All are nature's throbs playing little games.

All is a wondrous system
Self-contained within it;
Nothing without ever come,
Never destroy or create.

Sculpture in stones, colours of paintings,
Grandeur of buildings, tastes of food,
Fire packed in atoms, manhood in child -
All lurks inside, calls eyes to unearth;
Thrown on field are materials and tools,
Left to true labour to untie the knots
And extricate the huge treasures within
On needs that sit on neck with chisel
To carve out whatever, hidden within.

Deeper eyes and uncommon skills
Chisel out negative materials around,
Hark, then, what is within, comes out;
Nature gives in tight packs all things,
Calling right tools to trace and brace
And show out to world hidden treasures.

What is seen, muddled sight,
Shallow, gross and indistinct;
Inner eyes open us to vision
To see the wealth, built within.

What words build, not new to the world,
Just discoveries from what, already in mould
In intangential world of thoughts and beyond,
Then recreated in net of right words and sound.

by Praveen Kumar in Celestial Glow

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