POETS’ CORNER
By Walt Whitman
PROUD music of the storm!
Blast that careers so free, whistling
across the prairies!
Strong hum of forest tree-tops!
Wind of the mountains!
Personified dim shapes! you hidden
orchestras!
You serenades of phantoms,
with instruments alert,
Blending, with Nature’s rhythmus,
all the tongues of nations;
You chords left us by vast composers!
you choruses!
You formless, free, religious dances!
you from the Orient!
You undertone of rivers, roar of
pouring cataracts;
You sounds from distant guns,
with galloping cavalry!
Echoes of camps, with all the
different bugle-calls!
Trooping tumultuous, filling the
midnight late, bending me powerless,
Entering my lonesome slumber-chamber
—Why have you seiz’d me?
By Nazish Sabir
The youth wonders today
about where we and our leaders stand.
The young souls keep on joining the dots
from history to the current scenarios.
There ain't a single issue everyday that ignites the frustration among the kids
on why there seems to be chaos around and how far they hover along.
The innocent playful-minds seem to be in a cruel realm of passing days,
Where every single day they wake up with a hope of joy and peace,
But with utmost sadness they drive through the bad situations every hour of the night, on the exact same days,
Remembering the real stories on chaos, violence and brutalities
By Ayesha Malik
Stationary is the life of art
Each moment pierces the heart
Eternal is the nightingale's song
Rampant across the canvas long
The strokes intrigue the colors
Merging in an array of odours
The moment remains the same
Through annals of time and space
The hues of nature never change
Yet each interaction is strange
The sun comes up on the horizon
Engendering the glorious environ
An anticipation of the new
Glory calling from each pew
The frail man slowly stands up
Taking one step until the sun is up
His tiny struggle inspires the rest
Who felt absolutely bereft
They stride faster than the
frail man
Offering support as much
as they can
He abhors each helping hand
Adamant to make a final stand
Humanity hails and nature entails
Art stirs up from the dusty glaze
Life begins anew from a
single step
Rises forth to fall in glory's lap.
By Ali Asghar Ghani
Once upon a time
in a land far away
There lived people
known for growing
forests of love
from tiny seeds of
kindness
Compiled by SK