To The Unseen Faces Poem by nithya raghavan

While examining the curtains,
draping the tall, magestic walls,
i wonder, how many hands,
did the embroidery work,
without actually pricking their hands,
with the gigantic needles.

while staring into the black water,
in a wooden pail,
surrendering to the thought of,
how many felled the trees,
going against the conscience,
to hammer the bucket with nails.

walking with anklets,
around my feet,
like constellations that form,
in the night sky,
how many blacksmiths,
shaped those miniature bells,
to jingle at my feet?

an onion, who covers himself,
like a gift wrapped in many layers,
a parcel passing through many hands,
how many farmers,
uprooted the vegetable from,
the Earth's chest?

pulling up the pants,
walking into the ice water,
by the snow-capped countryside,
feeling the pebbles,
melt away into water,
the icy breath,
which makes one flash across their thirty-two,
at the mirror,
a smile genuinely hearty,
which makes me feel like,
pulling out those unseen faces,
who veil themselves under,
the burqa of poverty,
and thrust a handful of pennies,
that graciously find themselves,
in the midst of water fountain........