The still born agnostic
One cage opens into another
Though an infinite cloudy one
The sea that pours at horizon
Touches the cloud and doubts
The salt he carried amidst waves
For the rivers that plunged were bland
Some strands of hay and a pile of life.
The rain drops that fall into waves
They giggle at the flakes on peaks
The pain of thaw and silt along banks
Like prayers to a misplaced God.
The patter of gushing rains on pane
The longing to lose salt to rain
Amidst the splash of carefree jump
When those without a cage huddle
And look for strands of hay for shelter
The porous umbrella of invisible fabric
And the breeze that pulls us back
As we tightly clutch on to a faith
That neither is dry nor drenched
The wonted spots of dampness .
What looked like a nest from skies
Turned out to be an open cage
It saved from the downpour
Even as clouds vanished after rain
Delhi
1873
10.10 hrs
15.8.20
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