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My old garland

Wild winds roared like hungry lions
Flood, furious fire, all at once.
The roof was about to fly, the home about to flood
Pitch darkness, death howled like wolves at backyard.

Raising my paining head, I pleaded,
‘You are the Maker and Master
Who can face your ire?
Be kind to agree for a swap’

He roared; bending my head, I said
‘Be kind, carry me, leave my life behind’

He carried her away like a garland
Leaving this Kasipu behind!
‘Rascal!’, I cursed, but who cared ?

Spring came, soothing wind, flowers bloomed
Stars and moon glistened.
The doors and windows became gold
The roof silver.
Angels danced.
I pushed aside my inner gloom,
Laughed like a newly wed groom.

Came again, the Man-Lion God
Shaking his bushy body, bushy head.

‘You Lord, here, to carry me
or cut my stomach?’ I asked.
Placing me on His laps
He cut opened my belly
Did some tricks; walked away.

‘Someone has shifted your hiding hyena
To a safe place,’ said my doctor,
‘If not, you would not have been here
But with your garland’

Now my doors and windows are gold,
Roof silver.
Angels are dancing, the aroma of fresh flowers
Seeps into my soul; but,
Silently my soul weeps
For my old garland .

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