The Ocean of Suffering

By Anshita Gupta 

 

Unarmed, left the shoes at a distance,
I come to clean that wounded foot.
A shrieking hand out of the blue,
Help! Help! The only thing it said.
Harder to pass, nothing to provide,
I struggled a bit, the wave took it by.
A numb fear there remains in the foot.

Emerging on the translucent shore,
A single eyed face looking for its pair,
Nowhere to search, it cried on the foot,
Washing away all the dirt and blood
The cleaned painless foot moved ahead
In the ocean of suffering,
Searching to place the healed scars
Tinier they felt with each screaming wave
A healing call from horizon, the disfigured Algea?
"Come, drench in me", he said,
"O Child! Your loss is my gain"


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