Saturday, 16 August 2008

God's acre


God’s acre

When I was born someone smiled –
a dew drop on a tender blade of grass
draped in rainbow attire,
a sparrow picked a grain and flew.

From morning always moves to dusk
on the pathway walks the Sun, along
hear a call from Goddess Night –
Life hangs until the distance ends.

Remi, if you could cut / graft the roots
of beliefs would the twist between
the ends – Birth and Death –
ever remain the same?

(Translation from original Marathi by the author)


© Remigius de Souza, all rights reserved.

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