Tradition
by Shivani Deopujari

The last of your kind,
too early too soon.
Your life had just begun,
no longer defined
by the things they had done
as you tried to attune.
Lie to yourself, then;
you had always oppugned
Their trust and their ways
As they tried to explain.

Calm down, bitter child,
and face your own aspect.
Those days of sharp words,
relentless, not mild,
had never caused much hurt,
nor disturbed any rest.
You scarcely believed the day would be met
when night would be day,
And karma would reign.

Nothing here for you now,
move forward, march on.
Think nothing of down below,
or that beautiful sound.
soon it too will be gone,
buried by rain or snow.
Carry yourself high,
let everyone know
The remorse and the pain
That brought you to faith.