[A poem by Mani garu titled ‘O Divine Mother!’.]
When I realise, O Divine Mother,
you are rooted in every core of my being and
You are the doer,
I feel at loss to explain
my foolish endeavours,
to please you and have your favours.
I feel ashamed to speak, when I understand that
you know me more than what I know about myself,
and whatever I speak, that will be empty noise
because of the deep hidden pretensions.
Yet, I shamelessly blurt out that I am holding your hand
While it is you that hold my hand.
I plead you, feigning naivety,
I don’t know how to find the ‘I’, to quell it and drop it,
ending its ego trips and the illusions.
With never ending ignorance,
I give little thought to who pleads and who hears.
Does this drama continue forever.. ever..??
