Poems By Arjava

THAT living Lotus, petal by petal, unfolding,

Which through the mists of this avidya looms,

Vicegerent of the Sun, nowise withholding

The light we lack in Maya's nether glooms.

When spirit-sense to the last high peak gyring

Finds all Thy mountain-bud aflame with rose—

Touched by the eager hues of Dawn's aspiring—

What raptured Silence watches Thee unclose!

Then the vast span of those Truth-petals reaching

To the utmost arc of Being's finitude

With vibrant answer to dark's wan beseeching

Transforms a world, from Thy grave beauty hued.

O puissant heart amidst whose raptured shrining

A nameless Love is garbed in Name's disguise,

Last metronome to mortal things assigning

A fadeless rhythm wrung from Dawn's echoing skies.