The Ode Of An Ancient Soul

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The Ode Of An Ancient Soul
Bodhisatwa Parekh


I am the whisper of time,
A shadow cast from the dawn,
Witness to the thread of existence,
Woven through aeons,
Where fire first kissed flesh,
And the stars were mere glimmers in the eyes of the first men.



I recall the echo of sharpened stones,
The primal chants around flickering flames,
Bodies swaying,
Lost in the rhythm of survival.
Here, where the earth trembled,
The heartbeats thudded,
And fear sculpted fearsome warriors,
Struggling against the tides of their own making.



Yet amidst this chaos,
The quietest voices emerged,
Gentle murmurs of wisdom,
Draped in robes of tranquillity,
Saints who walked with the weight of love,
And carried messages like seeds in the wind,
Sowing hope in barren lands.



They spoke of peace like a soft breeze,
Reminding the world of the sacred bond that binds us, one to another,
Through laughter, through tears,
Forging paths of light in the darkest of forests.



From the warmth of the hearth,
To the cold steel of cities now rising,
I saw the dance of civilization,
An unsteady waltz,
Where dreams collide with despair,
And the hunger for power threatened to eclipse the sun.



Yet look!
Even the brambles of greed could not snuff the spark of compassion,
For every storm spawned a rainbow,
And every broken heart sought wholeness,
Reminding me of resilience woven into the very fabric of humanity.



With each passing age,
The voices of the saints rang louder,
Their echoes marbled in history,
Like shadows sprawled on ancient walls,
Calling out with love,
"Rise! You are more than your scars."



Through revolutions and rediscoveries,
They paved roads of kindness,
Brighter paths for the lost and weary,
And when the fires of hatred flared,
Their words became shields,
Glimmers of light in the thickest smoke.



Oh, the irony,
That in the pursuit of greatness,
The trials of the heartened us, yet delivered us—
Gifts wrapped in humility,
Cradled within the arms of our flaws.



I have seen kingdoms rise,
Only to crumble like sandcastles,
Witnessed the cyclical dance of despair,
Jubilations, and the hollow cries that echoed in the canyons of time.



Yet in the dim star-lit nights,
I also beheld the quiet miracles,
Children sharing bread,
Hands clasped in prayer,
Harmony woven from discord,
An eternal quest for existence,
Glistening like dew on dawn’s first light.



With every heartbeat, I sigh,
Knowing humanity’s journey is a symphony,
A melody stitched through the fabric of flaw,
With each note—a reminder—
The power of love can fracture stone,
And heal even the deepest rifts.



So as the ages turn,
Let us gather those sacred whispers,
And let them be our guide,
Like constellations ceaselessly shining,
As I, an ancient soul,
Walked the labyrinth of time,
Finding peace is not perfection,
But in the beautiful struggle,
The unyielding quest of one indomitable spirit,
Echoing through us all.

Words: 475
Lines: 80