WORSHIP

Wherefore dost thou seek His arms;
In skies and clouds and blue?
Beholdest thou His tacit charms,
In dust and rocks and dew.

Those arduous men in sweat and dirt,
With spades they delve thy earth.
His aura bides in each starving heart,
In divine bliss and mirth.

If seek'st thou His holy presence;
Servest thou His men.
For; Lord is hither in e'ery essence,
And in e'ery hapless den.

Lord is hither in blood and sweat,
And toiling arms and feet.
Lord is hither to mend their fate,
Who's sowing good rice and wheat.

With 'em Lord dwells e'ery hour,
Whose attires reek of mire.
And skins art drap'd in no good flowers,
But cinders from old pyres.

They art hither to serve thy needs,
And cleanse thy world of glory.
Despise not e'er their noble deeds,
They too have a life and story.

They too have choices vibrant though,
Ne'er they savour a blink.
Let 'em cherish and let 'em grow,
Aid 'em learn and think.

Feed'st 'em well the food thou eat,
And offer 'em tidy attires.
Thus thou serv'st His rever'd feet,
And purged off sinful mires.

Each smile thou paint in bleak their faces,
More happiness comes thy way.
And Lord shalt aid thee triumph in races,
And make thou hale each day.
© Dipanjan