
“Except a grain of wheat
falls into the ground
and dies…” (John 12:24)
Falling
into the rocky, uneven
road we walked
last night in Mumbai
–unseen in the dark.
Falling
on the metalled pavement
of the highway
we rode yesterday
in a motor rickshaw,
–breathing
dustladen air.
Falling
on narrow footpaths
of city slums
and broad sidewalks
of the business district.
Help us to fall
and die
in the streets
of this city–
denying self,
boldly
speaking
Life.








Love your poem and its God-honoring message! Mumbai is dear in the eyes of the Lord; may her people become so for all of us in our hearts also.