In this temple of Thy’ne

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Every time I come to this temple of Thy’ne,
I often see a man sad, anger and tear drop in his eyes,
After he has said his prayer I see him turn around
To a boy, sitting right in front of YOU there
A boy of age 18 may be, but only of age 3 by his mind
Sitting before you with folded hands,
because some one has said him to do so, he knows know why
Bursting into laughter and claps seeing a small child run around
Oblivious to the teardrops in his fathers eye.

God I see you standing there, in this temple of Thy’ne
Seeing everything, yet pretending all's fine
People say you never fail, I believe it too
For my prayers, if you decide to grant me a boon,
Grant it to this boy of Thy’ne, And I will never fail to come to this temple of Thy’ne

(This is the first poem I have written, I presume, some 10 years back, the sight of an autistic child sitting in front of God while the father was almost every time about to cry and the boy was almost every time with a smile and these words came to my mind, I still see them very often.

The style of my writing is similar to that of Gurudev Ravindranath Tagore, Noble Laureate my favourite poet)