Jesus Is Riding On a Bus, These Days

(A poem dedicated to Khadiza Merry) They all heard that, Jesus is riding on a bus, these days. Vinay from the remotest eastern village was an eye-witness He just acknowledged today, in confirmation. I was counting those quarters. One by one. The unpaid dues for the neighborhood store... When silence honors every single voice out there One can be a meaningful one for afterlife, with a storekeeper. And slowly, I sustained. I was tamed within With those hot, warm sweaty humid minutes. And I gifted a land of own, aged for long, to the storekeeper. Will it be an identifiable generosity accompanied with the right hand? A specially biased right hand? There are need of mirrors, here and there. These attires, dress etiquette and dress colors too... Under the slender palm trees, the virgin Mary cries here, also Somewhere, a frozen conversation dies in silence, with a noisy air-cooler.