In the Palm of My Hand

I hold my offerings of love to you
Of wild hibiscus plucked with tender gratitude
In the wilderness, where flows the steam
Afar the rugged Ghats of thick forest

I hold in the palm of my hands
The joy of being who I am
Stretching my hands of trust and comfort
As the wild flower is scattered into the winding stream

The giver of life flows
Unconditional. Streams down narrow crevices
Through parched land
Softening the earth baked by the sun

My offerings are to you
Of wild cactus flowers plucked with reverence
That grows through the path of the sacred stream
For the earth that breathes in shallow breaths

The stream has no strength to move on
The thirsty mother has drunk the nectar, consumed
There cannot be more water to flow to places parched
Dams built to hold water. No longer for the earth, the wild and the open

I hold oblations in the palm of my empty hands
To offer my longing, in the hope of finding scattered grains of life
Near baked fields that merge with empty clouds
Where the farmer has nipped his life with the hand that tilled the earth

I pick up grains, a few. My hands red like the earth that grieves
Half palm, half empty. Searching
I stretch out my palms to you. My only prayer, oh little Sparrow
Come back to peck the seed that nests inside the chaff

You flew away beyond the skies
Like the stream that seeped into the fissure dry
As the earth breathes softly in the hope it will rejuvenate
For in the palm of my hand, I offer the love of care, tenderness of touch, eagerness of compassion

I have my last dry tear to splatter on you
Of worship in my heart, that resonates through the earth
Like the blowing of a conch at the end of a war
The woodpecker cries, squall of hope reverberates far away to the depths of the universe
 ~~~*~~~