Readers

God is Playing


I wonder who had stirred up-

My heart long before-

I started counting the days,

The days of my age.

I wonder who had splashed-

The streams of blood,

Inside the vulnerable skin,

Before the dreams could come,

In the lobes of my brain.

Who did that sovereign act

Of knitting a scrap of flesh-

With life, tender divine.

Lucrative deals, which-

The Businessman brought,are-

Deals of love and of deep relations.

'My Lord', as always-

My soul recites, whenever-

I ignore the way to church.

An exasperating thought of confession,

In forgetting The Artist,

Who had painted the universe,

Beautiful, long before-

My eyes opened.

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