Mysticism
Abbas Panakkal
Mysticism
A line of mystics
flows from black to wheat.
A way of mysticism.
Work hard and
sacrifice life with the mastermind,
breathe along with his disciples.
How can a village man be a mystic?
Sure, he has proved
mettle to sit with ladies,
keeping all infatuation away
.
Good rituals at seasons and
proverbial talks to his pupils.
Obstinacy that calf should drink
cow milk makes him a village saint.
From cattle field and paddy field,
gems of wisdom arise.
Basket and spade keep intact
for moments to redefining thoughts.
Can he be a saint,
hosting a stranger,
who is not a pretended neighbor.
Burned midnight oil
to sing folk songs
and jot encomiums
is enough to call him a Mystic.
A small kiss to a native,
received with nostalgic beauty
would make me another mystic.
But …
Watchman’s pretty white daughter,
helped to carry bags and
passed smile shattered the heart,
expected a pat.
Then I thought.
How to snatch qualities of a Mystic?
