A million stars stood by in a meeting,
Wondering how do describe this vision,
It was someone new with a hint of gold,
So much they wanted to say, but couldn’t put into words,
So they whispered to me,
Wishes that were centuries old.
The galaxy sings in chorus every year,
I hope you can hear those words,
Somewhat strange yet somewhat true,
Their vision in its best melody,
Tells me to look through,
“Look through the eyes of the warriors and the worriers alike,
They face the miseries unknown to our kind”, said the stars,
“One takes in the miseries of the country and yet smiles,
Whilst the other takes on just his deeds and still pries”,
“One never looks back to the lavish life and still seems satisfied,
The other has bid on a home in the ‘past’ life”,
“While one would step on a minefield and never complain,
This other fellow seems to self impose bombs on the brain”,
“How do we describe it to the adjacent galaxy?”
I am left awestruck, how do I reply?
To such deep inquires, how much would suffice?
“The warriors and the worriers both have gold shields on,” I replied,
“Their perspective is what keeps them well defined,
One uses the gold to shield himself from the worries,
The other uses the shield as a reason to worry.”
“The tint of gold in the shield of the warrior, acts as a star in his hall of fame.
While that of a worrier becomes the padded burden of all his blames.”
They laughed and enquired about a way to fix this,
“There must be a way for them to find bliss”.
I told them the only way plausible,
Is when the worrier finds himself to be a warrior.
Fighting for the country or not,
Everyone has a battle to surpass.
When every move is thought of as a move towards victory,
There is no time left to worry.
Planning for the coming move becomes a priority,
And the person can be drawn back from the past easily.
To all those who worry,
The universe is watching,
Use your gold wisely.