Through this mist,
This rainy screen,
This breeze,
Have you seen
How the calm of His bless arrives?
His balm of Love
Flooding the city lanes,
The library road,
The museum gate,
The footpath with octagonal tiles red,
The blocked 'on repair' road,
The cars parked under a bridge,
The white facade of a tobacco house Virginia,
The metro tunnel insignia,
The lemon shop,
The cart with maizes smoking a lot,
The vapoury haze of that old man standing absent,
The bus stop flooded upto rails halved,
The watery flow carrying away all slush,
The city getting cleaned, wiped, of all dust...
Seen all these
Pictures running uncanned,
dear?
How by Supreme Kiss
Of His bliss,
Getting flooded,
Watery,
The City,
Is getting
Inundated,
As fated?
So dear,
Why not we all be flooded too,
When He hath brought in
His strength of Love,
His Agape,
His soft,
His benediction,
His ways of bestowing cool?
Cooling all,
Even The Sun,
Why not we be silent
And pray for His Holy,
More,
To flood us,
Thus?
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