God! Please hurry!: A poem 

I keep telling Him: Hurry! 

A prayer, a petition and a worry 

My hair is all turning grey 

And it could well be my last day 

I can remember the incompleteness when Dad died 

And I imagined His arms were still open wide 

Can the future be the resurrection of the past? 

The little we had, to me, always seemed vast 

I think, the tree is slowly creaking 

Its limbs are drooping from the weakening 

The walk is getting tiring, sweat is breaking 

And I feel the deserving are not doing the taking 

My energies can’t be mothballed; is God forsaking? 

The walls of my convictions are shaking 

I have done all my deeds to His liking 

But, in return, will He raise the right fist in the ring ?

I know He takes his own time 

And patience is always considered divine 

But, right now, I want to see the naked sign 

to keep youthful hope alive in my mind