I remember
The visit
A tiny palm
In protective warmth
Within grandfather's
To pay obeisance
In mumbling reverence
Before the majestic trunk
Smelling
The Sweetness of the ball
With yearning
To displace the rodent
And sit
At his feet.
With mother and aunts
And grown up family girls
The visit
I remember
To await
Someone's arrival
Incognito
In the crowd of devotees.
Before the goddess
While she wears
The blessed bangles
Lighting the lamp
I see
Her bright face
That visit
I remember.
With moscular followers
Making way
For me
The visit I remember
To the sanctum sanctorum
For a mute dilogue
face to face
Two quivering voices
Behind Garuda's pedestal
Searching His face
Through smoke screen
In the evening
I remember
Behind a black kiosk
Where dry wicks
Get greased
On the earthen lamps
Where monkeys roam
Now I seek a place
To stand
And watch
The banner meandering
In empty silence
Anxious
To snap the hold
from the wheel atop.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poetry, a reminiscence of childhood so nicely inked.