To The Destiny

Satish Verma

Turning a monologue
into a hymn
when you take a fall.

The random truth
in flesh and bones.
Not me, not you.

It was grace
to become a fakir
without your gods.

The dead bovine
gives its skin, so that
you can walk on mud.

A shadow changes into
a Buddha, when you
refuse to die.

Taken for ungranted I will
become an argument for half-clads.