The Puttaparthi Countryside

Thus it is:
When sitting still
On the side. of a mountain—
An ancient, arena
Of rugged reptile rock
Carefully carved
By the soothing stroke
Of nurturing Nature.
The Glory of People’s Toil
Passes by, on compassionate Earth,
Under ancestor trees
Of greens and ageing leaves.
Man miraculously moves
With the tremor of termites­—
A permanent, pulsating procession.
Like walking temple
He carries the height
Of hewn steadfastness
From life…………to death,
To……………….life,
To……………… live, forever!                

                       ~Anthony, Malta
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, April 1971