The Quest for Poise

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Enamoured he was by men of poise,
Craved for equanimity and sang-froid,
Control over mind, body and thought,
Unflappable, tranquil, unassailable.

Enchanted he was by action without care for fruit;
Steady stream of unyielding will,
Undeterred by failures, unmoved by success,
Resolute, persevering, inexorable.

And work he did, untiringly night and day,
To transmogrify into his idol of poise,
To carve himself into a deity in human garb,
Imperturbable, impenetrable, towering.

Till one day he discovered to his utter surprise,
That he had stopped bleeding, he was above hurt,
Stopped crying, he was above tears,
Stopped laughing, he was above mirth!

To his utter dismay he realized that day,
He no longer touched anyone, nothing moved him;
He was just living dead,
As alive as an unfeeling stone.