Friday, January 18, 2013

Rain and the Hunters

These clouds do not shadow
The eternal sun that rejoices
At the sight of the mortals
Toiling day in and day out
Thinking that they are in pursuit of
Happiness and eternity.
His smile melts down through
These clouds that we mistake
For rain and its tickling touch
Trees do not shrink their leaves
The meadows do not hide flowers
Instead they take those wet messages
Of eternity with humility and joy
We the mortals run for covers
As if we were afraid of the truth
Sent by heavens in the
Cold thin threads of water
He resides there with Her
In the wet wings of the birds
And the shivering of their beaks
And in the hurrying feet of a leach
Whose back is broken by a
Blind man’s feet
Blinded are we, aren’t we
Asks the leech in its muted pain
While the ants peep out from the mounds
As they get welled by soiled streams
I will not tell the hunter
To withdraw his arrows
Whether he is aiming at Him or Her
Whether the ant in his cosmic gratefulness
Scramble up to bite his shin of not
Until I could withdraw my arrows
And walk out into the rain