Sun Blossoms

The Mother's Touch

MOTHER, when thou hast kept thy hand'
Upon my palm
And from thy many-coloured eyes
Pourest dew-calm,
A myriad melodies awake
That slept so long:
The burden of the dark centuries
Blossoms like a song.
By the power of a soft silken touch
The Infinite speaks
Out of its hushed unbroken silence
In gold sun-streaks,
And my spirit wings up far away
Beyond time's ridge.
A moment's vision, a flickering call
Crossing the earth-bridge,
It is lost on high like a sudden eagle
In a flight of bliss:
A new birth pulses and a glow
Of unknown release.
Then, like the hasty end of a dream,
A shadow falls
On azure heights of my lustrous day.
Nature enthralls,
Or the red fire of the ignorant heart
On the body's pit
Draws down from the wide sky-suspense
Thy Infinite.
Bestow, O Mother, the solemn pledge
Of victory,
At end of the long and Winding paths
Thy orbed Divinity.

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