Ancient
A thousand orange diamonds
Refracting the dimming light,
Of a Sun that wishes to fall asleep,
On the ancient river's surface
Against the backdrop of a city
Which seems but a fragment of imagination,
Science fiction's machination;
Only reality by these buzzing shores
Are the rustling peepal leaves
And ancient temples to infinite Gods
With their braziers lit and hot
And their thresholds washed and kissed
By an eternal procession
Of those that wish to believe
And have done so since antiquity.
Chants and incense wafting
Its overwhelming effervescence innate
Through the crowded, praying ghats;
I dont believe their eccentricity
But I can't help but be amazed
That the sinking Sun must have gazed
Through ritual's smoky haze
On these bowing, mortal heads
For ages too old to now recall
And yet they keep coming,
Their mouths, they keep humming
Their prayers with simple wishes
Spoken in so many tongues
Yet with the same essence.
©lonely_potato