Poem: Masterpiece of Fortune

How would you want your day to end? A routine day, ticking the boxes. Even the stars are bored of winking. I sweat at the gym and return. Some mundane chat… and then as I wound up for the day — the mailbox chimes. A shiny new diamond — a masterpiece of art, scientifically done. What can this poor chap do — so, I wrote another verse.

Poem: MASTERPIECE OF FORTUNE (TOLD)

For the master, it is another piece of work.
Never has science looked so artistic
Never my reasoning has lost its rhyme.
Till I saw this … eclectic weave of verbiage.
A treatise of tables, a crystal of clarity.
A world of seeking, searching, and sorting.
The trained mind knows what to look for.
The patterns appear, and knots untangle.
The mind is like a castle on an island.
The pestering waves reach, drop, and froth.
The high and mighty in the castle are impregnable.
All, like the sculptor working on a diamond.
Cut, chiseled, and shaped, a true work of a master.
And then, in the darkness of a late evening,
The unveiled piece is worthy of a Louvre display.
At least, call me different, the master says.
For the speechless… pick a title, Master.
But, inside, for her, it is just not another day at work.
It was the ascent to the opportune moment.
All that is needed now is to make a fortune of it.
The masterpiece of fortune (was told) three decades ago
And then I turned up so late for this magic show.
Now, it is her moment, her masterpiece.
Savor this moment and sleep in peace.

~Ashok Subramanian © 2024