Feet of God is revered
flowers offered at feet.
Elders’ feet touched
for paying respect.
Saintly person’s
feet are cleansed.
Entered home
with feet washed.
Gurus’ feet smeared
with herbal oils.
Apologies offered
at master’s feet.
Blessings seeked
at parents feet.

Stand on your own feet
often it is said so.
On feet, clans moved
nations to nations.
Pilgrims gone places
walking miles n miles.
Soldiers on feet
crossed boundaries.
Monks walked
mountains to villages

Gatherers wandered
forests many days.
Hunters searched
tracks through miles.
Hawkers went
far away towns.
Athletes ran miles
dawn of days.
Medicine men
went to nooks to save.

It was all in history
but now here in India.
People walk miles
and miles and miles.
With women and children
towards their home.
Sick and weak too
walk with their folk.
May fall or win
know not for them.

But they walk
in hope to reach.
One day at home
do or die they walk.
No food no water
no footwear no clothe.
Police on road beats
trains do not carry.
Shelter under sky
hope is far away.

Children sick and weep
tired mothers carry.
Men are in despair
as no way to feed.
Some fall and die
others move helpless.
Wounded feet
lame legs of many.
No care no medicine
human of burdens.

Afar at their home
awaits dear and near.
The girl bade bye
fallen village youth.
The man no more
lady lying on street.
Kid lost life
on the road side.
Endless are dramas
of real life scenes.

These are the stories
of people who work.
They are called
migrant workers of India.
Birds and animals
do migrate afar.
It is to survive
and return home.
Here these poor people
return home crying.

Seeking mercy of all
they see on the way.
They walk forward
towards their home.
Do not know them
win or lose but moving.
Hope is their power
will is their blessing.
Lament not dears
May you reach home.

CG Prince is a sculptor, painter and poet


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