The Hands Of Divine Mother Poem by Dr. Bishnupada Sethi

The serpentine path
Of dark red soil and sand
Leading through the canopy
Of trees, lush and green
Appeared quiet unusually.
The visitors were a few
In the morning early
After a downpour very heavy
In the wee hours today.

I was wondering
Not hearing any chirp or whirr
Of the bird and insect
From their hideouts
In the overarching branches.
The musky petrichor
From the wet ground
Kept me connected
To the Earth.

Neither breeze was blowing
Nor was there any movement
Of even a single leaf.
Still and motionless were
Bushes and trees of all sizes.
A vast canvas of moist grass cover
Gave a muse to my eyes.

Looking back I reminisce
Long before in our village
In the childhood days
How mothers would give a thorough bath!
The reluctant kids couldn't escape
The ordeal of cold water treatment
Though soon after
They were wrapped around
With cloths, warm and fresh.
For a considerable time
The kids would stand
Still and quiet
With chattering of teeth
In the utter shock.

Gazing at the scenario
I rejoice at the natural wonders
On what has happened in the park
And at those who received
A thorough wash
At the hands of the divine mother.

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