Sathya Sai Baba

Ananda Archive

Sai Kirtan Group's Online Magazine Archive

An Indian's Christmas

Poem by Lata Unadkat

At the wee hours of the morn,
Life in Parthi is born.
2 am and the lines assemble,
The morning winds make one Tremble.

Christmas, a time to sing and pray,
Carols are heard throughout the day.
A White Christmas is only and Indian's dream,
For here snow or sleet is never seen.

In the hall the people await,
Swami's entrance from the Madir's gate.
A glipse of the robe of orange fire,
Locals and tourists hearts' desire.

A Christmas can never be complete,
Without Santa Claus, his elves and baskets of sweets.
An Indian Christmas is the same as any other,
Except we are joined by Swami,
Our teacher, farther and mother.

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