Deep is his slumber

Millions throng...
hands folded, heads bowed
with tear-filled eyes,
hope-filled hearts
at temples, churches and mosques,
chanting, in different languages,
prayers filled with one note-
of hope, salvation, redemption...
and He..who has for years listened
and toyed with His playthings on earth,
till now tired...He brushes them aside,
their chants grow louder...He turns his head away
till their unceasing murmer is like a lullaby
to which He closes his eyes...and sleeps
Deep is His slumber,
unshattered through the night
and maybe when at dawn He awakens,
He might play with them again
or cast them away...
and create a better toy to play with
when He wakes.
It is better that He sleeps...
their despearte chants continue,
more out of habit than need
and He continues to sleep... through the night!

(This poem by me was read out at the Caferati Lucknow read-meet in September 2006.)