Thus spake the stone

Do not despair, my dear,

Deaf, I am not.

Do not wring your hands,

Hold them I would, if only I could!

Your lamp is bright, its light

Shines even in this dingy space

Where I am destined to be confined

Forever.

Do not be disillusioned, devotee,

Your offerings I accept; thank you!

Carved from stone, yes, I am

But believe me, I have a heart that bleeds.

I yearn to comfort, to hold you in my arms.

Do not ever think I do not exist;

I do, in you, in all life you see.

I am the silent bearer of your woes,

Of your sins, of all the sorrow

I am the mute spectator,

The detached observer,

The impotent, the sterile in you.

I am the one who laughs, who cries

With you, within you

Why to seek me in this stone,

In this picture, in this church

While I reside within you,

While I reside over there

In every blade of grass!

How insightful of you, men,

To chose stone for me!

I did not create you in my image,

But you did, in yours, me

Down to the last details -

Soulless, sightless and

A heart made of stone.

Imprisoned in this solitary cell,

I cannot move, I cannot talk

Dank, dark, thick slime and oil

Dampens this cell and my soul.

Open these doors, break these shackles

Let me out into the open skies

Out, into the bright sun, the breeze

To the green pastures where cows graze.

Open, open, thy windows and doors

Open thy house to one and all!

********* Balachandran V, Trivandrum, 25.01.2011