Summer bloomer

Dear Father,

I have bloomed late in life. 

Having finally entered the party,

I find the liquor still flowing unabashed. 

Only yesterday I realized,

I need to do what I love. 

Not what earns me more money. 

And certainly not what earns me more fame. 

Because it was yesterday,

That I fell in love – With myself, 

With one-body else, 

And with the whole cosmic world. 

I picked the screaming phone,

And answered the call. 

I have my orders, Daddy. 

Everything else is an indulgence. 

Rest easy now and tell my

Sweet Mother too. 

I have not come of age,

But I am coming for sure. 

You named me well.

The mighty Arjuna said – 

I see the eye of the bird, and

Eye only. 

Well, well, I am a summer bloomer. 

And like all things furnaced,

All things tempered, long over time,

I am being slowly unblemished. 

I know my targets now, 

And I look them right in the eye. 

It seems that they are itching each other for the throne,

While I, silently plot to upend the entire Kingdom. 

I am forever grateful,

For all your battles,

that have kept me alive. 

And now, it is my chance at the bow.  

Cheer for me, I am a summer bloomer. 

I am a molten ingot getting beaten to shape in the foundry.

And finally, I am that name-fellow Archer,

who saw the bird, right in the eye.