Weak and tired
days of hardwork telling
his feet failing him
ah! then he flopped
down on the road
as he walked
nothing stopped
not a single car nor bus
no man rushing to his office
no child to his school
not a single loitering fellow
not even the policeman who watched
save the youngman on the bicycle
who rode ahead
but kept looking behind
and then came to the man lying
bending down with a warm smile
and a grieving heart
first bending to
to pick up things scattered
holding then the poor hands groping for help
smilingly held the torn bag of cloth
the tiffin box peeping out
a companion of many years
walking him to a shade
holding a bottle of water for the thirsty
he stayed on, unhurried, patient
as the bewidered pour soul
held his yellow printed cloth bag close
he simply smiled reassurance
and then when they parted ways
the poor worker wondered
at the bicycle boy and his benevolence
knowing well what he knew by experience
how he deserved to be treated
his poverty was his curse
he joined hands to thank no one in particular...
he didnt know he had just met a signpost of god.
sreelekha premjit
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/signposts-of-god-i/
