The Echo
BY
D. V. RAMA RAO
I
feel utterly forlorn my Lord!
Where
dost Thou disappear when I have the greatest need of Thee?
“Where
dost thou hide thyself when I too have the greatest use for thee?”
I
hear in echo.
In
the hour of temptation when I am lost in a tempest of desire, I cry out in
despair: Why hast Thou forsaken me?
“Ah,
my friend! why hast thou forgotten me?” whispers the echo in equal despair.
Fierce
are the desires that rage within me, fiercer the passions the desires evoke in
me. Wherefore should I look but to Thee for guidance: and why dost Thou abandon
me knowing full well that without Thy
help I can achieve nothing?
“Ah,
does it never occur to you that He who watches over you is ever concerned lest
you falter, for, know you not, my child, that if you fail I too have failed?”
whistles
the gentle echo.
What
strange joke is this thing called life that such mighty storms should find a
playmate in a frail frame such as I am!
Whoever
has composed this wretched tune called life? I ask in impatience.
“What
sorry tale is this I hear that he whom I designed fit to play with heavens
feels frightened of a few fleeting clouds!
“Ah,
whoever speaks of a wretched tune when all that goes on is an endless song?”
hails
back the echo.