gulab khandelwal selected poems

Every morning,
The doors of the temple open
And the golden-crowned sun-god
Rises from the milk-white foams
Of the churning Ocean,
Amidst the rapturous music of the birds.
Dumb with astonishment,
I wake up in a new world, every morning
And ask the great lord forgiveness
For my suspicions of the dark night.
But when I proceed to put around his neck
The garland previously woven by me with great care,
My hands shake,
And my heart reproaches me,
‘Fool!
Will you adorn the god
With yesterday’s flowers?’