Oh Sita Divine
Mother mine
Won’t you tell your mother
Her love to shower
On a lonely soul
Forlorn and cold…
When in anguish you cried
With her arms opened wide
She took you back home
Never let you roam.
I was not found in Mithila
To be raised by King Janaka
Not traversed dark forests
With Rama and Lakshmana.
No golden deer have I espied
By ten headed Ravana not seized.
Among fearful demons in the asoka grove
I have not grieved awaiting rescue
Yet, please put in a word
For a soul battered
Her warm bosom
To take me in
This unfeeling world
I would leave behind
Swathe myself
In her sweet smelling earth.

– Shail Mohan (Sept 2008)

Reposted from shail-mohan blogs @ sulekha.com