For Sale Poem by Sivaprasad Parackal

For Sale

Away from the madding crowd.
To Your home of peace we come.
Seeking silent communion.
To heal our ailing souls.

But Your hymns deafen us.
Sacred hearths burn us.
Holy smoke chokes us.
Rumbling noise everywhere.

They rejoice in adorning You.
With gold and gems.
Cries for alms are drowned.
In the insane melee.

Currencies bridge the gap.
As they compete among themselves.
To surpass brothers in salvation.
Knowing not that it's cost free.

You are auctioned and sold.
As buyers put price tags.
And queue people up.
For getting a glimpse of You.

YOU………………….
A coveted antique in their shop.
Away from the hapless ones.