Poems By Arjava

O TO besom a path for the Mother

To a welcoming-place apart,—

Road running, meant for no other,

Straight to the heart.

Be Her light footfall a token

Of a Stillness fraught with Grace ;

Keep the truth ward prayer unspoken

Her sandals trace.

Not solely Heaven descended

But earth up flowers to God

Each where Her heaven-attended

Silence trod.