The Shrine Poem by Pratip Sen Gupta

At the gates
Of your temple
I leave behind
My footwear
And my desires
I wash my hands
And my feet
Lest they
Bring in
Soil from other fields
I bow my head
In humility
I ring the bells
And light
The seven lamps

When I look up
I meet your marble eye
Painted
In a marble face
With vermillion
And turmeric
Smeared
On your marble
Forehead

You are as stone
You do not meet
My eye
And the far away
Look
Of a betrayer

And the flames
From the lamps
Flare up
In the last consummation
Of a desire
Started by a
Matchstick flash
At the steps
Of your shrine

Other hands
Ring the bells
Again

Pratip
11 June 2006