The escalator of life moved
ahead in full throttle.
There was no hurry
at all and didn't desire
to reach the acme or
even a higher pedestal.
A pedestrian who yearned
the steadiness of the plains
was prodded into the
exacting journey upwards.
As steps merged into
one another the incorrigible
pedestrian gasped for breath
and yearned to stay put.
There is no such thing
as steadiness in life but
just that taxing journey to
the inviting highs,
mumbled many in those
ears attuned for years to the tranquil sound of the plains.
Escalating worries of the
thinness of the highs
bludgeoned the senses.
The inexorable upward
journey continued and the
grumbles of protest
disappeared into thin air.
The lover of the plains
reached the much vaunted
heights where more escalators
where chugging on to carry
the ambitious to even
greater heights or even the
acme if there is such a place.
The doughty pedestrian
refused further scaling
and heaved a long sigh
of relief being pedestrian
amidst yells for excellence
exasperating excellence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem