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