The Feel
I shunned the hands of God
And turned down his reach,
When God came to shake hands with me.
I shrugged off my shoulders,
When God put his hands around them.
But when I cried for the hands of God,
While falling into the quicksand of my whims,
Tears of gratitude rolled down from my eyes,
When God gracefully offered his hands,
To pull me out of the pits of time.
The cleanest hands of God made me feel,
That I had reason to shy away from God,
Because of my unclean mind.
My selfish mind was stifled in shame.
II
The Talk
Does God expect us to take dips
At the Khumbu melas, or
Ask us to skip the day's meals
To take them after sunset, or
Look forward to our confession cores,
To be heard by the priest
At the reconciliation room?
Patience without perversion,
Passion without prejudices and
Patterns of the mind with qualms,
Are the human artifacts made by God.
And God does not want man to miss,
What is truly human, and humanly true.
Standing with humanity, is standing with God.
P. Chandrasekaran.
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