Attires...

Births…Attires….
It takes only few moments
To change the attires, we are adorning.
We are playing a game of attires,
Disguises, without any premonitions,
Without any screen play.
A dress for mourning; a dress for joy;
We are enacting a shadow play
All the time of our life, inadvertently.

When the sky weeps, and the spring disappear,
The winter laughs, without telling anyone,
Without knowing anything, innocently
It crosses the sands of time;
And the full moon is yet to come,
To show its elegance and verve.

Where is the refuge in this dense jungle?
In the night of torrential rain, and darkness.
Are we not wandering aimlessly
Having lost our way, in these mythical hours?
When we change this attire and adorn another one
Does our insight and inner eye overwhelm with tears?
When one dream fade out and another unfold
Do we laugh or weep at that time?
Where is virtue; where is truth?
What is the next attire? Which is the act and stage?
Where is a shelter in this highway?
Is the curtain being raised for the shadow play
To commence again in the life?