A Prayer That Turns Plea
When prayers turn to pleas couched in a veil,
And pujas, covert pleas for His pardon,
When Bandagis beg— a bargain for a bail,
Worships aim for a vaunted place in sun;
When sacrifices seek choicest of fruits,
Charities search for a place in heaven,
Gifts get given to gain matching return,
Pilgrimage a pass-time, no search for roots.
Bless me Lord still, let my hopes breathe alive,
I pray thee that in peaceful sleep I rest—
Assured in luxury-laden a nest,
I pray that honey sweeten my beehive,
And as ye keep well-supplied my huge store,
I swear to love thee, if so, all the more.
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This sonnet is sung rather tongue-in-cheek and is a light satire on prayers that be veiled pleas for wanting something or the other and are not rendered as thanks-giving to God, as all prayers should be.
Sonnets | 17.11.08 |
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