The Flying Horse

Swapnajyoti Bordoloi
The soul is a student
made methodical only
By stick-beating
The heart and mind
To turn around at the
Right time and
Happily go back home.
Keeping pace,
The body has to age;
The soil from which
It came
Takes it back…
Unlocks the door!
Love is the invisible key,
All in the visible universe…
Neither the shape changes,
Nor the colours of
The rainbow;
We only stand
At different places
Every time!
Where it matters most,
Silence is the best religion…?