Puja

`
The hour of thy Puja was drawing near
At the temple had gathered so many Brahmins
I wast in the garden, thy servant dear
Gathering bright hued blossoms in the shadowy greens.

A vagrant spring breeze brushed against me
Young birds hopped, skipped, chirped around
Above, fleecy clouds floated on azure canopy
Nature smiled in joy with life abound.

She smiled at me, a warm beckoning,
To join her calm, reposeful ceremony
My heart it seemed, was dying to sing
In chorus with Nature's other children, so many.

I reclined on the soft green grass below
I felt I had been there since ages ago
In a trance I wast, my senses mellow
I felt thy divine presence across the meadow.

An embroidered shadowy green danced around me
I surrendered my all at the graceful face of thee
I never heard the Brahmins chant or the people calling me
Only thy touch, thy voice O Lord, I heard only thee.
`
Chandannagar, WB,
April, 2003