Susmita, Beautiful Susmita
A smile that will outlive any other.
Hold her hand,
and maybe you will understand.
Poetry on the walls of the Metro.
They must have been writing this about the children at Mother Teresa's home.
The child ever dwells in the mystery of an ageless time
Unobscured by the dust of history.
There is a light laughter in the steps of creation
That carries it swiftly across time.
When peace is active swaping its dirt,
it is storm.
The breeze whispers to the lotus:
"What is thy secret?"
"It is myself," says the lotus,
"steal it and I disappear."
Good Job, Shipra, Good Job
For because of you, the world has flowers,
The World Has Flowers!
Hello Sister, and that must be Angel in the corner - does anyone see, Angel?
Inspection from the ageless time unto the baldness of an obscured history.
Cleaning off the dust of a barren landscape of past and future,
In order to view the everlasting smiles of those with the view.
To roam the places where only the ageless roam,
Searching for the secret no more,
The ageless laugh lightly as the truth unfolds itself,
like a lotus revealing itself to the unyielding world.
"Wake up, world, and see my truth,
For without my truth, there is no truth."
Says the Lotus, Says the Lotus!
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