Once I paused long in a reverie’s space
And found there a crowded scene silent,
Faces familiar and unfamiliar from ages
Posed to intruder me queries pertinent.
The builder came, “Behold in adamant stone
The magnificent lines my chisel spelt,
As lip and flower and breast and bone.
In what deed thine He finds any merit?”
Then the thinker, “Mine is philosophy, science
To bend nature to humankind, and great
Utility for arms of men and women’s limbs.
But in thee not a single thought is complete!”
The poet with smile, “Fair countries, fairer Speech have I cast from human…
In my parched wastelands are their oases,
My silent vacancies harbour hundred voices,
My life’s depleted channels make plenty room
For Rudra’s hundred sons the Maruts to roam.
My mind is absolved of all human lessons,
It awaits the Lightning-wielder’s flaming summons.
I have quarried a hollow from heart’s rock
And steeled its walls and roof from desire’s shock.
My ardour has commissioned a shining pedestal
To bear in heart the impress of feet celestial.
By each gesture I pour a subtle libation
To highest Agni in a deep veneration.
I erect and dismantle an yagña an hour,
To conduct an yagña a moment I now aspire.
All fruits of my aspiration I shall gather
And place as offering to my Divine Sire.
The walls are scaled, the gates are breached,
The ever seeing sentinel eyes are deceived,
Through guards of reason has slipped by
This conqueror from the azure on high.
Sturdy were the ramparts of my deeds,
The moat of caution none could overpass,
The high halls of thought and musing’s chamber
Were ever safe from such a danger.
Plundered are the vaults of my feeling,
Desecrated all the fine canvas of dreaming.
A single name’s graffiti in a dye of blue
Scribbled on my walls is the only clue.
Ah, what sound is that of approaching feet That on heart…
My cup is parched, long emptied
Of meaningful intent, of will it is vacant
And the force of life is all atrophied
Seized by limbs of a sloth virulent.
Am exiled to dwell in the body’s cave,
A think tenuous line of mind only is
The remaining veil covering body’s shame
Against all the emerging inadequacies.
Come O Flame into this cave of dreams,
Flood the spaces with Thy radiant streams.
Who art Thou ambling in effortless splendour
Along golden coasts radiantly shining?
Seeding in a million stars Thy ardour,
Reposing on a bed of space for Thy dreaming.
What miracle gives wings to Thy flying thought
That as butterfly hovers like a dream
Upon silky black canvas of sleeping night,
Teasing softly its tired eyelids with a gleam?
Oh how careless art Thou with beauty’s hoard,
Spilling everywhere precious perfection’s wine
Intoxicating every bird and bee on time’s road,
Even a mote minute bears Thy seal sublime.
Oh assail me not with too much beauty,
My poor heart stands forfeit of its serenity.
A hundred varied seasons yet none my own,
Like a helpless farmer gazing at dark clouds
That loom with a promise but then are gone,
So I watch for an issue from these climes.
An iron plough of pain tills my being,
Everywhere are the furrows of its trail
That grows by night and day unrelenting,
Oh the throes of woe reverberate still.
O Master, O Maker is it not Thy hour still,
What hand hobbles Thy swift serenities,
What impedes Thy sure alchemy’s will
From swamping my being’s shores.
Oh make me Thy priest and hierophant,
A thousand hymns I shall sing for Thee as supplicant.
I am mine no more, in me Nature
Her suzerainty over parts does impose,
Mind trails not the will’s curvature
And feelings to a despot do repose.
Old slain ghosts of self have revived
By a ghastly moon’s unasked boon,
Vain the gains wrested since the clod,
My heart now mirrors matter’s swoon.
For companion is faithful traitor Night,
The foe and comrade of my slow waking,
It partakes a share of the coming light,
For I forsake not even the conniving.
Come O Night, my long road’s sole companion,
Let’s expose our gulfs for Him to examine.
I found the ruse, the sleight of desire
Lurking in form, the unreachable face
That flits in moments that disappear,
Oh I have known Thy luring’s trace.
Cease this anguish, I have had its glut,
The fevers and passions imposed,
Painting with tears the scene apparent
Whilst Thou art for us solely composed.
Taunt me no more with sighing game,
I have lost savour for the bitter peril
That have made my hours their home,
To this haggard game do not compel.
Script my part in Thy better moods,
I refuse this role that mutely broods.
Who inhabits this frame vacillating thus,
Hobnobbing with delinquents, ruminating with sages?
Wither the constancy, here is only a drifting
As on a canvas the many poises passing.
My hearth is robbed of its seeking fire,
My heart depleted of its splendid ardour,
My hymns have fallen off praying lips
Eyes turned from their sunward gaze.
Dim elemental powers have stolen my will
And yet dig deep for my impulsions still.
Only safe seems instinct of the body,
Perhaps they devour it too from memory!
But now I breathe a lay thought and gesture,
These meagre offerings I submit O Mother, O Sire.
How many elements in my memory,
Borne in bone remembrance of stone,
In flesh are imprints of soil and clay
And my mind bears a seal of the moon.
All my endings and the many births
Have led from animal to human bud,
A patient sun now doth disclose
A secret part greater than the clod.
A petal here, a petal there unclose
A savour and fragrance yet unknown,
Midwifed by a hundred powers
A pristine child is upheld to the Sun.
To Thee O Mother I submit this birth,
May all its becomings bear Thy word.
Hi, I am Mahesh CR, Founder @tataatsu. I walk the borderlands between technology & spirituality. Follow @kalisbrood for Spirituality & Hinduism related topics