Heart’s beloved

Little do they, wrangling in heat

as to whether he exists or not,

perceive that He is a motive force

dear not to the brains but the heart.

Every moment of glory in life

is a sign of our debt to Him;

All deeds, awesome or humble

spring from His grace like a stream.

Firm Columbus saw through leaping waves

warm God beckoning to a distant shore;

Man alighted dazed ….on the Moon

crowning fruition of a feat, so rare.

Things sundry, moving in perfect symmetry,

betray a design of splendid art;

All toll the truth of the motive force

dear not to the brains but the heart.

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About K.S.Subramanian

Published two volumes of poetry through the Writers Workshop, Kolkata, India titled Ragpickers and Treading on gnarled sand. My poem Dreams bagged the cash prize award from Asian Age, a reputed daily. Poems and short stories have appeared in several web sites of reputation and standing. Writing is a nourishing experience. Otherwise feel emaciated.

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