A Praise
A Praise
A form of grace,with tusk and trunk,
Before all rites, One's name is sung.
Not just of stone, or painted art,
One lives within the human heart.
One is the one who clears the way,
Not just of blocks that go astray,
But from the mind's own tangled mess,
The worry, doubt, and restlessness.
In One, see the One's guide,
Who helps One find what's deep inside.
The ego small, the wisdom vast,
A timeless truth, forever cast.
One's broken tusk, a story told,
Of sacrifice, courageous, bold.
To write the book, to share the word,
A whisper from the unseen heard.
One's large ears hear One's silent plea,
One's eyes perceive what One can't see.
The path, though hard it seems,
Is paved with light from inner dreams.
So bow to One, but not in fear,
The Supporter of One is near.
One is the peace, One long to find,
The quiet home within your mind.
PS
Finding One, yet within Oneself.