An Angelic Spirit Of Divinity

I got off my four-wheeler motor car,

Found myself in a park set among splendorous ranches,

Waiting for a renowned lady, whom,

Locals pictured her as a goddess of morality and virtue.

'Twas 6, we were acquainted with,

"Mary Aunty'll be addressing at 6.30".

We decided to rejoice the natural view of the holistic place.

No, it wasn't a natural sight,

A man with a turban as his crown,

Took tutelage of the heavenly shaded Jesus statue on the podium.

The lightened candles on the outskirts of the small marbled place,

Attracted our supreme attention towards its grace.

Suddenly a lady full of years made her pace to the shrine,

As described, she felt like a Devine soul,

With calm eyes and a fair tone.

Wearing a white holy 'kurta', 

With an expanse of purity on her face.

Every local abutted her feet,

As a custom of paying supreme respect.

She ensconced herself on a stone carved bench,

And everyone on the ground gathered to hearken to her Devine locution.

She started her speech,

In a foreign language to me,

But despite disregarding her words,

Her strange aura attracted our attention.

I kept on listening to her incomprehensible soft words,

As an efficient listener of the local words. 

She concluded her veneration,

And gave us a small holy book,

And went away like a minute star.

I don't know the grounds of this trip,

But for sure 'Twas not dissipate,

To listen to that holy spirit,

Who was the messenger of the divine God.