Bricks, Mud and Grass

Naïve as he was in his yonder years

With the toddler awe that did appear

To latch on and then inspire his career

Was, the memory of the grand Westminster tears.

The cathedral with its looming piers

Wide naves and high pews that stretched across

The naked facades of brick in clear

Struck the young Baker in his heart so dear

So much that in his coming years

His world was filled with sustainable structures

Made of the same brick red that the past had layered

Those, extensively only for his Indian peers.

His life as he would later come to describe

Was –to build for the people of India, who he loved,

Was to live, work, and die here

For the mother for whom he left his own birth sire

And through the coming uncountable 44 years,

Of his life in this quiet god’s country

He made his life out of beautiful facades

Of those brick red blocks with mud and grass.