She was standing at the temple gate <br />Beside where hung the big padlock <br />Sorry sir you are by an hour late <br />The temple will reopen at four o’clock. <br /> <br />I had gone at the abode of the goddess <br />To be blessed by touching her feet <br />Forgetting she too needed a recess <br />After standing hours for the devout's meet. <br /> <br />My watch told me an hour was not too soon <br />And time would run out without seeing more <br />But the banyan’s shade of the early summer noon <br />In its sunlight and shadows held something in store. <br /> <br />The girl at the gate gave an all knowing smile <br />An hour’s wait sir would not go in vain <br />The goddess’ face at the end of the weary mile <br />Would make you forget all your travel’s pain. <br /> <br />Her smiles broke through the dark tan of her skin <br />The barefoot girl watching over that godforsaken hamlet <br />And as from the river the southern wind blew in <br />I decided to wait with her at the temple gate. <br /> <br />Then we walked to the river following the wind’s smell <br />She showed me on the bank the zamindar’s broken palace <br />Took me to the cornfields boastful in their golden swell <br />Before the hour flew us back to the temple’s terrace. <br /> <br />When I asked her about her school and standard <br />In her eyes I found rising the rustic river’s mist <br /> <br />Doing it all by himself is for my father too hard <br />In the chores of worship he needs me to assist.<br /><br />Pradip Chattopadhyay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-hour-3/
