Squared Space

Of our dominion,

What is the acreage?

Some asked directly,

Their eyes imbued,

By innocent wonder,

Hearts momentarily still,

Yet joyously brimful,

The answer lay in the elevation,

Away from the land itself,

Remarked the creatively wiser,

Others more tainted,

and discerning,


apply mental calculations,


to yet,

ask later,

In exhaustion,

Is it more than we could ever imagine?

The inquisitor,

Glances on,

A square foot of land here,

Which is well nurtured,

Em-blossomed with truth,

Lovingly ordained,

and cultivated fearlessly,

Then left nameless,

is worth infinitely more,

Than the grandest buildings,

If bruised with selfish ego,

For it be the provider,

Of continual sustenance,

and glee,

Far beyond,

Your wildest,

Ever dreams.


For Love of Waheguru Ji (Wondrous God & Supreme Master of Subliminal Truth)

Poem by Bal (Humbly Yours) 











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