Poems By Arjava

Response

THEREis a motion and a sense

Of permanence

When the rune of the dome has wildered the gloaming—

Till thelast echo of moon-song

wavers dim through the dawn-chant immense.

Still stars that hint, glint and quiver

In the churning river

Of sea-surge wending shore wards and lending

Earth-life to immortal spheres,

fleeting sparks to the Fire Giver !

Midst myriads a mere transient wave

Borne to one grave,—

Passion or thought of a man its life-league spanning

Ebbs back to ocean of Form,

oncoming souls to enslave.

Mirror-clear went each wave that knew the sky ;

To it drew nigh

The mirrored orbs who spoke, bequeathing their taintless token-

A sigil of mind's transmuting,

a seal of the love-loyal heart's reply.

May 19, 1932.