Pritha's pomes

Some rhyme, romance and a wee bit reason maybe, bear with me ?

The Sentinel

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It towered over me in all its glory,

A monolith that seemed to guard the skies.

Humbled by this edifice I stood in awe,

Of a Sentinel, whose silence could drown a million cries.

Quiet and strong it let the winds of change,

Cut crevices deep and myriad cracks, on its wall.

Nature in all her fury, tested her might, and yet,

The Sentinel seemed to withstand every fall.

With reverence that came from the gods,

Could vanity be too far behind?

The Sentinel knew it wielded power

To invoke fear both far and wide.

A child’s play, one day, with  a few stones and dirt,

Amused the Sentinel till it could laugh no more.

Said, it to the little pyramid of rocks,

Are you here to settle some old puny score?

The minuscule stone edifice just stood its ground,

And quietly answered the monolith tower,

How can we even stand your glance,

When your eyes have been blinded by divine power?

That night there rose a a tempest wild,

When bolts of lightning played with the cruelest thunder

When every crevice on the mighty Sentinel,

Knew its time had finally come to fall asunder.

As the blue skies returned the next morn

They saw the Sentinel; now a broken tower,

A few yards away, a gleaming hillock of rocks

Seemed like the desert’s quiet edifice of power.

As I walked way from the towering glory

Of a monolith that once guarded the skies,

The little stone hillock by my foot,

Nudged me to live each day,  with slightly, less blinded eyes.

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Author: Yours Truly, Pritha

Professionally have I OD'd on OD ( organizational development ) for over a decade and more . Personally, I am all about making the mundane a wee bit more meaningful and of course a lot more fun in the process. In the course, of course, I very often fall flat on my face, but the joy of getting up makes it worth the "trip" ! Visit, explore, and do write back what you thought, and why you will come back again or never ever; either way I am grateful you dropped by ! Am quite a scatterbrain which is synonymous with being a Saggittarian, so don't take me too seriously; I try not to :) on most of my sensible days. On "other" days, I have more than enough very very well meaning well wishers, who do that for me and land me safely back to earth ! What would I do without them I wonder ? And then I pause, and I often ponder. For all the times I haven't let them be, How on earth would they feel, they were saner than me? Arguably and not so humbly yours... Pritha PS: And yes.. a new mom at 41 is my new identity and I am writing a new chapter with my little girl one gurgle at a time...

One thought on “The Sentinel

  1. i am diya not pritha mashi her beautiful poems touch my heart it inspires me sorry but i love writing poems its in my blood

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