It Goes On Poem by Belin Babu

Autumn leaves fall with breeze,
And the sun shines, leaving a gentle glow.
She runs with the wind carefree,
Her mother's voice goes unheard, telling her to slow.
Missing a step she goes down with a hard fall,
Emerald eyes well with tears that start to crawl.
She glances towards her, who bears an uplifting face.
Brushing it off, she rises and goes on to play.


Slender fingers mould over the mound of clay,
With a tender hold, the vessel his fingers trace
Perfecting the piece, he lets it dry on the tray,
He fires the kiln, ready for the unique shape.
Out of the embers, the creation's cracked
The frown of the potter is tracked.
His eyes fall onto the heaps of clay left,
He goes on hoping for a successful attempt.


Music blasts from the theatre,
Harmonies are belted out, the dancers in full swing.
The hero and the villainous traitor
Go head-to-head for the daughter of the king.
The air is tense with the crowd in anticipation,
The hero falls silent, the cast sees a hint of hesitation.
With the villain's subtle nod, he improvises.
The show goes on, even under a crisis.


Even with joyful triumph or utter defeat,
The world didn't shatter, it revolved.
A single episode does not decide a feat,
Discoveries are made, mysteries get solved.
No matter the event or season,
The creator of life writes with reason.