I was sitting, looking at you Jesus
While Carmilites adorn the altar
A sudden insight flexed into versus
Smelt into broken strings of a guitar
Rim of my heart throbs with my lips
“O! flowers of tabernacle, into my heart you slips
How blessed you are clasping Lord
Hold me into your chord
So I can touch his robe
To heal broken strings of my heart”
But the flower
Plow my heart
Still I smile
With a longing love
Throng my skull
With throny crown
Let me heal you
When I cry:
“Eli Eli lama sabachthani?”
Ya, it was Kochi,
Evenings were red in MG Road.
Sun was eager to hide the night,
but that beggar boy is
still on the street, hands full of dirt,
asking for money.
I looked into his eyes,
deep inside no tears, all vaporized,
but fumes of blood, in his heart.
Reaching little dirty hands,
I said: I do not prefer money,
let me dress you well,
and give you food
His eyes glittered
smiled with his still white teeth.
But his mother watching
pulled him away, she need money
to get some booze,
She need her son (son?),
to entertain her life.
But there is someone who is better than booze,
Seek the Christ…
She walked away, with her sobbing son
It was dark and city started murmuring
Let my savior walk with them
Let my savior protect them
from the evils of city.
Years have passed like fallen leaves but still,
Nanditha, I remember you.
Your words were my poems,
When you scribbled in note books, that was awesome!
I always dreamed being like you.
But one day, with an incomplete poem, without a word,
Without even a death note
You flew away. Why Nanditha?
You did not gave me chance,
Never waited for Christ,
Turning away, my salvation stories,
And never allowing me to change your life,
You just flew away with your sorrows and worries
Why Nanditha? Why you did this to Jesus?
Oh! Saints your’re daffodils of my valley
Oh! Saints your’re lessons for me the lessen,
Oh! Saints you’re the fragrance for me the vagrant