Thursday, June 28, 2012
Inheritance of sacrifice
In 1730 fate struck to the desert village,
King’s men wished to cut the tree
beloved to the great sage;
Better be aside or pay the price!
Holy mother initiated the spree of sacrifice;
Lives they gave to rescue the periled tree,
The great count three hundred and sixty three;
Life is no holy but nature they exclaimed,
By offering heads the great debt was paid;
Alive are those who died,
Dead are those who shied;
Glory they brought to faith,
To keep the words of lord they ceased to breath;
Sacrifices I inherited, I must revere,
The legacy may perish, I always fear;
Who will sing the glorious rhymes?
Ahead of us lie dangerous times,
Ahead of us lie dangerous times.
I wrote this poem while I was in Bhubaneswar this April.