No, the weight of the world is not on my shoulders
Nor, will it ever be,
Why then, do I think otherwise,  Ashok
To me its, indeed, a mystery.

That weight which I refer to
Were it truly to be on my shoulders,
I’d surely be a more caring human
Caring as much for hills and boulders

As I would the oceans and mountains
And, all things wise and wonderful,
The trees, the flowers, the stars above
‘Cause the Lord God made them all.

When I was a little child, a long time ago
The “wise and wonderful” words above
Were the only ones, I knew,
Part of a song that we both a sang
My sister and I, in school
And, every word seemed true.

We’d sit beneath the stars above
And watched the time go by,
Vacant eyes looking at vacant spaces
Up above and, O so high.

Drifting with the passing time
Innocence then supreme,
That life was another world
Truly wise and wonderful

And, when I learned what wisdom was
I was then a grow-up kid,
I forgot what Innocence looked like
And, wondered where it  had slid

The two square meals we talk about
Were needed to survive,
They were not coming from the heavens
A rather, stunning, surprise

‘Cause, they always seemed to
When I was that little child,
Not afraid of a thing, not even Me
Nor anything in the wild.

No weight on my shoulders
Never mind the weight of the world,
I was light of weight and mind too
No stones, at me hurled.

I didn’t know what this Ego was
For, it was a long time ago,
When I was not so very wise, all- knowing
As I now think I am, with little time to go.

I am the Master now of all I survey
Waiting patiently for Eternity,
That mirage,  we all seem to  revel in
That great, big, eternal Mystery.

The weight of the world no longer there
On, sadly, drooping shoulders,
If I can get around by myself, unaided
That’s wonderful, never mind pushing boulders.

I guess I am more like a child now
Like I once used to be,
I wonder why my ‘adult’ wisdom
Didn’t learn nor teach me

That, the one who really has that weight
Rests, peacefully in the skies,
Anything else you hear, O wise people
Is no more than a pack of lies

To which each of us contributes our bit
For, we wish to portray our Wisdom,
How else will we then brag about
That weight on our shoulders, Hm!!!

At times I also wonder, when I’m gone forever
What will the world do, perhaps, erect a statue
So that I’m never needed again,
Or, will they let me join the dust
Sprinkle flowers and pray for rain.

God bless all those who think they have taken the world’s weight off my shoulders.
They must have been relieved to find there was no weight, at all.

(The author is a prolific poet who has over 30 poetry books to his credit. He can be reached at ashoksawhny06@gmail.com/ www.ashoksawhny.com)