The scribe

The scribe

Hastily I scribble my name at the end,
Claiming for my own,
This gift bestowed,
That almost everyday ,
You send my way,
This new pattern in a kaleidoscope,
How You toss up the words
And let them fall
To reveal new patterns and hues,
To answer many a unspoken call,
I gather onto myself each design
Tack my name onto them and creativity feign,
To furtively claim as my own,
And not give credit where it is due,
And all glory onto You,
Who am I , to deign to describe,
Your beauty, Your creation,
I am, but, your humble scribe.

--shubha