A simple man

This man lacked 'intellect' of the kind

Intellectuals feign to have

So easy was to read him

As masked he was not

Not a go-getter, not an intruder

If not ahead, not a laggard

Full of love, surrounded by good people

World for him was made of glass

Deeply spiritual

He loved his tiny room in a little corner

And lived like a wandering ascetic

Not he, his mind wandered

This man was so simple that I often wondered

How one can be happy with so few things

Simple he was

Ordinary was he