To stand in the surges of chaos
and get swept into the arms of a fragrance
of a tree I don’t see...
To cut through snarling roads
chatter, blood and unrest crossing the danger marks above my head...
and then, find a smile break out at me, faceless, formless, bodyless but there...
To walk past a season and find its face on skies, trees, and roads
and to feel one hand that strokes
all time zones off my brows...
To love You and love the earth, that snail, that fly, that bee...
to see You smiling and smile with all the flowers, trees and leaves,
to love You and to know that it means loving them all...
To pray and ring the temple bells and still not feel the prayer ring inside
and then to pray that I pray the way You will it from me
and then, to pray everytime a wonder sprouts around me...
Dear Balpreet
ReplyDeleteWhy to call it Prayer? I think today prayer is such a silent phenomenon that any vocalization of the same disrupts the prayer itself. To make it obvious is to make it less effective. Your praying is so sacrosanct that you should not allow any Kafir like me to even touch it. I hope you won't mind my saying that.
Sunil