The Plot Of A Poem

If I look up and walk I get stumble And fall into a meadow of massive sadness So I look down always at my feet And continue the act of going While I think how lucky and fortunate I am To have a life that is better than many of men Within my heart I express gratitude And keep continue the thinking On love, life and about people, downtrodden; There must be a cause behind everything Right wrong, good bad, poor and rich Without any definite purpose Must not been given me this journey Nor has been created this universe or this cosmos; Curiosity grows so is my inquisitive mind And I start thinking about a plot of a poem In which my better sense forces me To imagine about the stars that hangs And holds together in a grand and wonderful design Without the help of pillars, rope or strings; The force that breaks a bud into a flower The same force must be behind this spreading cosmos And spin like a top yet not makes it fall apart Like the fireworks Or like the crackers we burst at the eve of new years; This force must be the greatest with finest intellect A gardener, an artist to maintain the game With perfection true to the term Whatever He is called I think God is His Great name.