By the wounded Narmada <br />I see a sage today <br />Giving the healing touch <br />With silent dedication. <br />The wind is wild <br />Light is under threat <br />But he is still there <br />Closing in his palms <br />And safeguarding <br />The flame from death <br />Along with <br />The other-half <br />Of his breath. <br />He has built a ‘Tapovan’ over there <br />And is burning his glorious hours <br />In resolute meditation <br />For invoking sanity in men. <br />It is a ‘Brindavan’ <br />Where you would hear <br />The melody of harmony <br />Flowing out <br />From the pristine flute of Nature. <br />There is tranquility in full bloom. <br />The air smells of the fragrance <br />Of unfaded love. <br />In his courtyard <br />Sparrows and squirrels <br />Give him spontaneous company. <br />His tender hospitality <br />Feeds them grains and fruits. <br />His spirit, free <br />From the clutches of modernity, <br />Mingles with them. <br />He says: “I hold silent dialogues <br />With them. It helps me maintain <br />A rapport with myself.” <br />Dialogues with men <br />Are more difficult these days! <br />The waters of the river <br />Wash wisdom at his feet. <br />The whispers within the forest <br />Tell him tales of co-existence. <br />He now delights in what <br />The twentieth century man <br />Seems to delight most <br />In forgetting, <br />In destroying.<br /><br />Kannan G<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/n-baba-amte-1994-nature-in-its-nakedness/
