My India
Vast and lush,
With a hint of blush,
Beneath the sky of violet blue,
She hums a hymn as on a bamboo flute,
Across the fields capped in a million dews,
Painting words of wisdom - worldly hues.
Gathering her children over bowers of corn,
She clothes and feeds, even the bitty stillborn.
In courage she'll enroot until she stands up tall,
On well earned praises and folktale songs,
She sews in love from gloom to dawn,
By answering aid to all who call,
Not a matter to win or drawing a loss,
She'll fasten her sons for a better cause.
To bring about a world untouched,
Round and about, she'll proceed as such.
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