He was very thin, half naked, one arm
broken, glasses cracked.
Early morning an owlet will land over his head
And give a long hoot.
The bleary eyes will look down non-chalantly
on browsing goats at his feet. I will see a twinkle
in the eyes.
A cave man, or Buddha! I loved your brazenness
cat-walking alone on the spiky path of truth,
drinking goat’s milk and raising cotyledons
of guiltless faith.
Post-traumatic, I squeeze your feet.
Any reincarnation in future? Any divine intervention?
