I look through my grilled window

I  look  through  my  grilled  window

Shutting  the   doors  of   dejection,

Let    the   Sun  and   wind   in,

Who  can monopolise  them?

Keeping    the  beating   doors  open

  in good  humour, hook   them,

rusted  hinges   helplessly   grind,

let  them   scrutinise , peer

humanity , warring,  animation,

jostling   and   jeering  at  some:

I  hear   the  special    Mantra 

Or  the   inner  voice  of   Gratitude

Gyrating   from within ,owing  its

Allegiance   to  all  the    blessed

Happenings   around  me ,  as if 

A  cyclic   rhythm   going  around,

Every   happening   is  a  mystery

Twining  with   the   breeze  

That  barges  in.