The Wheel

He was very thin, half naked, one arm broken, glasses cracked. Early morning an owlet will land over its head And give a long hoot. The bleary eyes will look down non-chalantly on browsing goats at its feet. I will see a twinkle in the eyes. A cave man, or Buddha! I loved your brazenness cat walking alone on the spiky path of truth, drinking goat’s milk and raising cotyledons of guiltless faith. Post-traumatic, I squeeze your feet. Any reincarnation in future? Any divine intervention? SATISH VERMA