The deity, resplendent, stood,
In a shabby dungeon,
Shrouded in mystery.
Who knows, who prays?
Curious, I peek,
From behind the car window;
To catch a full glimpse.
The cars, at a standstill:
How old is God?
The honks and the hustle bustle;
Is it abandoned? Odd!
As the jostle for start begins,
I pull away, unsure, unclear.
Suddenly, a lady appears,
Wrinkled, draped in white:
Barely able to walk.
Came out, from behind the deity,
Slowly towards the grill.
We zoomed past,
A prayer said,
And in my heart,
The child, I felt,
Finds true comfort,
In her mother’s nest.
Shruti Goswami
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/abandoned-52/
