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