Cloning designs nothing
Beyond the command of God,
There is every inch of reason
To continue the faith in Lord.
Why should there be a need
To explain the power of God?
Whose creation can create a human
How great will be that Lord.
The birth of light from Sun
The science of light on earth
The creation of man by God
The science of clone on earth.
All that takes place
Within the boundaries of world
Is either direct by the Lord
Or by some chosen means by God.
One such medium of creation
Has been designed as human
One such supreme creation
Is designed first by Lord.
Praise the King of world
And praise his creation too
How intense is the reason now to believe
Lord who bestows power to create to you too.
Nothing is beyond His control
Nothing takes without His will
All glory falls to Him
Who created the ones who can create.
Work in Pain
It was painful his every breath
Every movement was a dead end,
There was no sparkle in eyes
Of joy, but a tear depressed.
You will die soon, doctor told him many times
“My work shall live till the end of Sunshine
Lend me not a painless time
I ask for just time,
Even in pain a man can work
That’s what I will prove with my work.”
True, they who say health is a must to rise in life,
Know not how strong is strength and its life,
Tortures of disease, if inherited
My friends, retreat was a past believe
Not a present truth.
He died not before his time,
Even after life, sunshine, his work shall shine,
For he had proved to prove one’s wisdom, one’s worth
Even health is not the need
Of this earthly place.
Yes! I am made a man
Compromising at every step
At every corner for health in life
Walks a common, saving self
From wounds aloud, all around.
There is panic and pain
Tortures that insane,
Conscience - desire of being good
Turns weak and rests till demand for food.
What a reason dwells in hand
For such a change my friend?
Infancy of reason in action
Deep thoughts hold no breath.
Blame whom, my dear
Storm dwells within,
Even when exterior is silent
Heart throbs painful rhythm.
Its creation of God
Heaven, home and tomb
All different still alike
For a broken heart heals by none.
A common on road
Struggling for floor to stand on,
Walking on stairs of need
To satisfy just food’s dream.
A common too lives
He too is alive
How many in rich and rare
Does this often realize?
Enslaved in free world
Loaded an invisible load
Of need of shelter, food and cloth
He drags his dead self on road.
Disappointment breeds in eyes
Enthusiasm decays with life
He smells insecure future
Approaching nearer each time.
Still he believes in Divine
With a million reasons in hand,
Thanks to God he says
Yes! I am made a man.
![](javascript:openWin("http://www.sikhspectrum.com/022008/images/clone.gif"))