Poems
THEME/S
Let me not utter five things in five words,
But by one word of densest diamond
Pack five things to a shining secrecy
That gathers a deep truth missed by them all;
Or else with five words capture one sole thing,
Pluck from it fires that light up earth's abysm—
Fires that were veiled by being locked together,
But now a fourfold seizure from without
Of splendours and terrors ruling time and space
And then a sudden self-sight, a fifth flame
That knows by a sheer eternity within! . . .
Words have not come to measure things that are;
They plunge to the unheard, leap to the unseen,
Being ear and eye a chaos of surprise
Till through a dark delight of consciousness
Huge nebulas swirl out dream-distances,
Stretching the soul to a rapt infinity! . . .
Words are the shadows of enhaloed hawks:
The shadows cling to clay and seem clay-born,
But he who marks their moving mystery
Feels how a strange spontaneous quiver wings
Their passage here and how intangible
They float for all their close and massive shapes.
Alone the poet looks up to the Inane,
Sees the gold wanderers of the boundless blue,
Catches the radiant rhythms each burning heart
Puts forth in every line of the wide form
Spanning the silences with pinion-song.
Thus in his scheme of shades from the vast throng
Haunting the earth-mind he shows across brief thought
Glimmers immortal, throbbings of the bliss
That reels through heaven a drunkard of Truth's sun.
Or, in rare moment quick with dawn and noon
Page 49
And eve at once, our little human dreams
Love with such far-flung eyes the undying birds
That the large lust comes swooping down for prey
And, where the shadows mystically shone,
Falls—crushing, piercing, ravishing every sense—
The living body and beauty and blaze of God!
3-6-48
Page 50
Home
Disciples
Amal Kiran
Books
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.