A poet is forever wondering, the heart pierced by the injustices and unfairness of a topsy-turvy world. In these lines, we see the reflection of a sensitive heart.

In the bough that hangs low
Fruitless but autumnal,
Leaves in a sinuous dance.
In the clouds that hang low,
I watch in wonder.
A man’s need for power
Woman begs for mercy,
On her knees,
Perchance on her back.
What is she thinking?
It’s okay, tis my lot,
If at all, is she thinking?
I do wonder.
In the grains, the rice,
Offered to a beggar,
The devout in God’s name,
Yet thrown is curry staid,
Unoffered to hapless maid,
She deserves it not,
Says the devotee of the Lord.
Why, I wonder.
Hunger burns equally,
Your belly and mine.
Who’s to quell
Selfsame fire which
scorches alike?
Man versus man,
Creator of divides,
I do wonder why.
(Pic courtesy: Pixabay)
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