The sky is clear, Sun is brighter, and the Trees are stronger;
Barefoot, in black, tracing temples and ponds,
Covering the darks,
Of the past and bristling the anger of the body
To prepare the soul of god’s incident,
The steps to taste, enriching power,
The grace of devotion,
Rest, the worst of you is here;
The aligns, best of the termed order,
From the streaks of distance so untold in the legacy of the divine
ship,
Optimist; is what you are when you call him,
Proud; you are when you hear him,
Steady; you are when you en-rap the ground,
Barefoot imprinting you and identity,
Thousands come; ten thousand go up-down,
Imprinting their identity of pleasure they have endured.
We ourselves, feel lucky to cut short,
What we call a failure,
So, here we got with the say- “Swami Saranam”…
