I do not believe in god; then Corona visited home
Claimed my most precious gem; my little one with her golden smile
I now became that tree, that lived even after lightning struck
But no longer bore leaves or fruits; just a souless living dead
Her angelic face oft floats upto me, in my sleep
I wake up, screaming; was she real or just a waking dream?
And then one day, when the sky shone like sun-ripened hay,
I joined a gathering, a prayer group, hoping to run away from her, her memories…
The chanting, the meditation and their kindness
Created electricity in my body that sent shockwaves all over me
Renewing and breathing new life into the broken tree
I meet them every day; we gather under the temple’s sacred peepal tree
Every time, I close my eyes and chant, “Om”,
A life- force breezes through me; I see her face
Prancing and laughing; I am no longer distressed
Realised she will always be a part of me, in another dimension
The tempest is over; the birds have flown home
There is forever peace all around…