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Raw Impulses
Parvinder Mehta
The roads do not question its travelers,
Selflessly taking us to our destination.
Winding and coiling in anticipation,
the ultimate end.
The flowers do not ask us about our Gods
merely pleasing with fragrance and beauty,
blooming and withering in silent acknowledgement,
of that eternal beauty.
The air we breathe does not ask us our faith,
simply looming and then abating.
Filling up empty worlds,
willing to subsume all that matters.
The rain that drenches us does not pick and choose,
showering all willful souls,
immersing and seeping our bodies with peace.
A child's cry, piercing the heart,
looking for that comfort and re-assurance
a world not lost,
does not inquire the listener's devotion.
Why does it then matter
when a man venerates differently,
when a woman believes another divinity?
O why have we forgotten these raw impulses,
These inner essences.
Why can't our humanity, our worship transcend the
Prejudices of symbols?
If only we could, if only we could…
¤
©Copyright Institute of Sikh Studies, 2011, All
rights reserved.
