Rajasthani Reflections | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Rajasthani Reflections | Previous Challenge Entry
By Ellen Carr
08/19/15
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Thick in the flurry of Indian life,
motor bikes and cows,
lop-sided loads lumber along roads,
whole families ride tractors,
camels pull trailers,
laden with decoration.

Bright-turbaned men squat, watching,
waiting for who knows what.
Trucks piled high with people
are going somewhere, precariously,
while women wear their wealth
as they work the fields.

But where are the crosses?

Colour rules this land
where the poorest array themselves
in brightest finery.
Ancient places offer their splendour
in gaudy display of times gone by,
of craftsmanship superb.

Magnificence in fortresses,
high and strong,
holds tales of long ago,
of rulers, wives and slaves.
In grandeur and in detail
there is strength and beauty.

But where are the crosses?

Marble-crafted temples,
shrines bedecked with flowers,
for gods galore.
Towers and holy water,
fruit and incense,
for repetitious prayers,
midst the colours of the rainbow.

Dogs and pigs snuffle
through the lanes,
with the cows, always the cows,
where the rubbish, blown about,
adorns the ground, piles the walls.
A family in a cart, drives by,
camel-drawn, dog in tow.

There is life, there is colour.
But where are the crosses?

Nowhere a church,
as we travel, tourist-wise,
through this land
of the very religious.
Are there Christians
in this mass of humanity?

Yes, our God is at work,
behind doors, beyond gates,
in little groups, in miracles,
bringing people into his Kingdom.
There are tales to be told,
There are lives turned around.

And there are crosses, to bear.

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