By Dr. Taher Kagalwala

As the sun strives
to meet the horizon,
The smog of Bombay rises to greet it;
The burning orb of fire
is now a mere red ball of light
struggling to sink into the Arabian Sea--
so that it may rise again
tomorrow.
Now it's orange, now it's red;
Criss-crossed by dark bands of polluted air..
and now it's almost brown-red, with an orange cap;
Soon it will be seen,
No more.
There fly birds o'er its face,
racing to an unknown destination;
There - the sky turns orange, then pink,
then red and gray...
as the sun,
now oblong and distorted,
finally touches the horizon-
and sets.
It is gone,
and so must I,
for I've sensed the presence of God..
and witnessed a moment of Eternal Truth!


© Dr. Taher Kagalwala 2002