Rameswaram

 

Rameswaram

 

My soles hurt,

‘til I saw a man with no feet.

 

I can’t bear to picture it –

I’ll make a pun,

so my mind’s eye doesn’t have to hold this stare

with reality:

His sole probably doesn’t hurt anymore…

Can’t say the same about his soul!

 

There! Guilty giggle –

a blink in the face of suffering.

 

No time to dwell;

I am in a herd migration towards the Temple.

 

On the way, more scenes I want to blink at –

ashy outstretched fingers

hoping to unite with paisa;

tangerine turbans chanting,

I’ll label them frauds

like I know any better.

 

I’ll sit in those autorickshaws

staring at its inner walls,

making poetic observations no one will understand:

Two fish in a sea of golf balls.

 

I wish they didn’t occupy those holy steps.

Selfish desire –

but I have an appointment with Him.

 

Black idol –

polished remnant from auld lang syne,

I stared at thee with hands joined,

expecting to see myself in the reflection.

You showed me those who I blinked at.

 

I could see clearly.

Active eyelids, rest now –

I can hold this gaze.

 

I knew then

why they sat at the temple steps.

I thought,

“They need Him more than I do.”