My Child-God Poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri

A tiny paper scrap
Holds all his secrets.
On its glossy obverse
There is a mystic mantra.
Behind it, he smiles
At first unfelt, unseen
His bejeweled child-feet
Touch the orange sky
As pigtailed bearers
Swing his palanquin-cradle.
Beauty waves surge
Amid perfumed sticks
Yellowed holy rice
Sweet banana slices
Fragrant camphor flames.
Metallic discs meet
Fingers dance on drums
To feverish head shakes
Hair tousled, foreheads moist
The blue-sky child sleeps