Suffering attired in saffron
Walks down the uneven paths, lanes and by lanes
Along water courses and stony routes,
Bare footed shouldering suspended pitchers
Filled with sacred water of a miles away river
To bathe their Lord;
Swelled feet and bleeding soles
Tread in gay
Pain so pure an offering…
Drawing Bliss of Shiva
In the drizzle of Shravan rain
To purify man for a purer goal.
Showers of suffering
Mingling in downy showers.
The mundane palms
Drowned in the divine linga.
For a moment man forgets
If he’s untouched, unholy
Away from the Soul.
