The Spiritual Hunt.
At the shrines where I went to pray,
I saw no gods around.
They were busy perhaps,
They were busy perhaps,
Looking for humans elsewhere.
Their absence kept the God hunters crazy,
Hunting for things that Gods detest to see.
In the plates where camphor and oil lamps burn,
Coins and currencies tilted the balance
In favour of those,
Who were 'liberal' in worshiping.
Who were 'liberal' in worshiping.
I struggled to fix my thoughts, in the eyes
Of the statues of gods and goddesses.
But my eyes played the truant,
Ogling at anything but divine.
Ogling at anything but divine.
The entertaining crowds seemed
to heckle
My pretended piety, emptying my soul.
I returned home to turn to my Gods in their selfie mode.
They seemed to ask, how long could they wait for me,
To refine my stuff, and replenish my soul .
I snubbed them back and went to bed,
Preparing my soul for my morning prayer
At the temple of my choice, on rotation.
P.Chandrasekaran.
This is almost the common experience to all the people who visit temples.
ReplyDelete(Refer to the poems of Kabir Das,Tagore and siddhars) " Aham Brahmasmi: :" Thathvam asi". My poem " Know your Password" reflects in a way the theme you have dealt with. A good poem.
This is almost the common experience to all the people who visit temples.
ReplyDelete(Refer to the poems of Kabir Das,Tagore and siddhars) " Aham Brahmasmi: :" Thathvam asi". My poem " Know your Password" reflects in a way the theme you have dealt with. A good poem.
There is nothing as newer thought.It is words that make them look so.Thank you for your pointed observation.
ReplyDelete