Without Mice Or Men Poem by Debasish Datta

Suddenly the royal mantle of life slips away
It is evening, I
gathering close the cosy cloak of daily ennui
step out into the drizzle
One grey raindrop for one stilled life,
the billions who came and went
since Adam and his wife

Silent swallows fill the sky of Sidon
Somewhere there
by the stone jug fallen among motley earthenware
on a cobbled lane far, not quite far
from the temple, soldiers, winepress,
thonged sandals, scrolls, philistine perfumes,
and the relentless drip of a stone faucet,
there,
here and everywhere,
The measured step, the laboured step,
The famous step to hear

To kiss
every single raindrop falling
out of ken
with the tired sweep of the hem of His dress
without priest or prelate,
mice or men