Stealing From God Poem by lalitha iyer

When I pen
I steal from God
or rather like a mother
he spares the wonders
for me to treasure
giving me the joy
of having something as my own
though everything is his
just letting me allow
the delight of possession
the sweet verses
I steal from his purse
where he has locked in
some morning dew and mellowed nectar
the lyrics of sadness
I steal from his looks
they have the touch of
a missing mother's sighs
the lingering muse
I steal from his disguised smiles
his mysterious poise
I ink with a space
his love and compassion
I sympathise with as mine
In short, I have nothing my own
yet I am proud of everything unknown
that I have stolen
and decked my house alone.