Hill of wisdom

He got born in this world,

started gazing and listening,

yet not speaking a word.

He learnt from his architect,

speech, style, and sermon,

to utter ideas and then reflect.

He started climbing a hill,

made by sages of the past,

to view the world at his will.

He learnt mounting from masters -

learning, failing, trying, repeating,

and building the path as he wanders.

He matured as he moved places -

new milieu, masters, and mantras,

his thoughts felt like zillion spaces.

He chose to do an abstract hiking -

of logic, philosophy, and poetry,

he didn't feel climbing but flying.

He spirited high to find hilltop 

to sit, sense, and solve the world,

but failed to find any such top.

He grew old and forgot his goal,

still soaring in his spectral space,

now, he adores his untold hope.