The New Ashoka Steps into Your Life

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The emperor’s feet spread music all along

His path because he makes his way to you,

(Though not the sound of strides that make this song).

The melodies those feet produce cut through

Your chest because you are not sure they sing

To you alone, those notes.  His arches, toes

And soles make music more like angels on the wing

In Shalimar and gardens where the rose

Is Maharajah of the universe

Of orchestras of love.  You know this all

Too well and fear this beauty may bring curse

And sorrow.  Maybe others seize the call.

  They bow to lay the worship of their flowers

    For him to tread.  You fear his gorgeous powers.

~ Phillip Whidden