The Unsung Father Poem by Hrishikesh Goswami

Long ago it commenced
This is the chronicle that reflects the
fine lines of the unsung
The bright blue and
the vast sizable figure
with neither beard nor moustache
The heart of whose goes beyond the
emerald blue and orange sea
It hovers on top of your temple
day in and day out
but you break to grasp its panjandrum
unless and until a flying utensil
passes off whose clatter is ample
to turn your head at least once
towards the father figure,
the protector, the 'sky'....!