Durga

It was a soft fall morning

Meltingly pliant between sun and shade

The air was a cool caress on my face

I weaved my way to make an offering

at the sanctum sanctorum of Goddess Mother

Durga.....

The golden rays caressed the bamboo platform, 

A makeshift hut dressed in colourful cloth of 

Blues and white.

 

The doorway was a darkness

That beckoned in silence,

To rest and air troubled thoughts.

Gathered my courage

Said my prayer at the altar,

Looked at her as long as I could,

golden visaged and black doe eyes,

And pouting cupids bow for lips.

Her nose stud glimmered invitations 

Not motherly...

But a challenging living devotion. 

Love me!

I am a challenge, a construct,

To meet every male divination 

Of divinity.

I stand as ultimate weapon

Shielding the Gods and 

Humanity.

Regally radiant she stood.

I bowed in devotion

Stirred up my emotions

Played with my mind awhile.

My heart was compliant,

I wasn’t defiant,

Yet I doubted the efficacy 

Of mass prayer

Public show,

Published adoration. 

But

In a fell moment swooping 

And scooping me

The tempo of drumming 

Undid me with a gaiety,

I garlanded her with

All my latent spirituality. 

I felt the priests incantations 

Reaching vaults of heaven.

With each resounding echo, 

Of all fellow worshippers

Resonance bridged despair 

And doubts.

The drummer's momentum

Accelerated

The sonorous hum of

chants

invoking her spirit,

Into new resolutions,

Personal windows of morality,

And nooks and crannies of all 

Our lost inheritance.

Traditions pittance

Were filled overflowing,

Copiously Grace was bestowed 

With flowers flung in abundance 

At her feet...

In Beauty she adorned me.

In wealth she sated me.

In Strength she won me.

Devi....

Be Seated in my restless heart 

Awhile.

© Amrita Valan October 2014

Footnote: Fall is the season of worship of the mother goddess Durga and her destruction of evil in the guise of a demon, All over India, in different forms, Navratris. nine holy nights, in North India, Durga Puja in my city Calcutta and Mysore in South India....Also the victory of Lord Rama the epitome of good king over  Demon king...The goddess was created and imbued with the strengths of all the male Gods when they could not defeat the demon themselves. She is the ultimate feminine icon of strength, worshipped annually in October, a bit of our Indian lore as foreground to my poem.