Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet


The Sun in the cosmos itself doesn't know the omnipotence in its shine; the blazing yellow circumventing its persona, 


Its only when we profoundly admire its tenacity; the blistering heat it imparts to fumigate pallid earth; does it comes to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


The crimson colored rose itself doesn't know the mesmerizing odor it emanates; the voluptuous complexion profusely embedded in its core, 


Its only when we cherish its enchanting fragrance; the stupendous sight it portrays when sighted at evanescent dawn; does it come to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


The star twinkling amidst naked patches of sky itself doesn't know its shine; the radiance that envelops its incongruous silhouette, 


Its only when we applaud it for its resplendence; the illumination it provides in the chilly night; does it come to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


The boundless ocean itself doesn't know about its infinite size; the unfathomable depth it incorporates in its belly, 


Its only when we exuberantly praise its swirling waves; ravishing froth striking the shores; scores of glistening white sharks swimming; does it come to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


The opalescent butterfly itself doesn't know about its multicolored wings; the swishing tentacles extruding from beneath its eyes, 


Its only when we acclaim it for its nimble footed flight in the air; the delectable draughts of wind it engenders while flying; does it come to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


The vivacious reptile itself doesn't know about its hiss; the mystically slithering body it possesses, 


Its only when we laud it for its tantalizingly shimmering skin; the remarkably transparent eyes; does it come to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


The obdurate shell of coconut itself doesn't know about its stone shell; the incredulous heights it projects from on the tall tree, 


Its only when we value it for its appetizing juice; the immaculate and sumptuous pulp incarcerated in its walls; does it come to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


The slime-coated oyster itself doesn't know about its wealth; the loose ferns agglutinated to its visage, 


Its only when we treasure it for its scintillating pearls; the rejuvenating salty water which ejects when we slice its body; does it come to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


The newly born infant itself doesn't know about its innocuous heart; the tiny legs that caress its mother, 


Its only when we clap at it for mustering courage to walk; the frivolous smiles it does when tickled; does it come to realize that it is indeed beautiful. 


 


Beauty is a virtue embodied in all of us transgressing through the surface of this earth; it is a blessing we are all born with, 


All though we remain indiscreetly oblivious to it; as we don't admire it, 


Beauty is too precious to be neglected; too sacrosanct to be ignominiously condemned;  beauty needs to be appreciated.



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Beauty Needs To Be Appreciated

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