Musing 186 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Bathing improper can not ensure our purification,
Partial inundation of bare self under the water
Stem the rot wider beneath the streaming flowers
Of obicience for the divine under the temple bells.
Teeming pilgrims from clear day light towards the dark alleys
With water dripping from the duck heads
And with dry wings will wait further for the considerable tide
To recuperate with the voyages of fate arbitrary.
Those refuse to come before the river in twilight
For complete ablution will guide our future salvation.