Lo & Behold

Looking at the morning sun

Oblivious of anything around

The sun, keeping its morning glory, its risen with the hope,

I keep sitting all alone, gazing straight at the sky,

Looking at the clouds, thinking of the time,

Wish I could see the face sublime.

Past through the horizon the ends meet,

You cannot tell if you’d be able to reach.

Faith is the substance of things hoped for,

This I remember as a lore.

Still Believe all that is imbibed, that is taught, only that things we hope for it’d never come back.

Again gazing the night sky, I see the twinkling star,

The moon in all its glory and with the scar,

Trying to find that face devout,

Having the rekindled hope,

And lo & behold I find that image divine.