There were instances when even a drop of wine,
Seemed to be an endowment divine.
When the chirping of the birds,
The clutter of the herds;
And the roaring of the thunder,
Was never actually a blunder.
I am however, looking for that lane,
Which is throbbing with outside pain,
But it leads you to elation,
In fact, total emancipation.
This lane, tread by the select few,
Is antediluvian & ancient, not new.
May the Blessed Souls tread on this path of the munificent Divine,
May the Almighty consecrate them with His Grace Benign.