Poems By Arjava

WHITE is the smoke ascending

From the pyre,

Many the fires re-wending

To the One fire.

Smoke, be my charioteer's

Resurgent team

Shod with conquered fears,

Quitting this dream,

Leaping along the light way

Of wideness joy,

Braving the golden height way

No harms annoy,

Straining to reach the raybeams

Of the supreme Star,

Till all this fettering clay seems

Unutterably far.