Poems By Arjava

THE bleak hills of separation rise

Between the one spot greatly longed for

And the not longed for, bitterly present fact.

Absence and here ness and to-day,

The lifeless monstrous mound of this, this 'actual,'

Unterminate, infructuous existence ;

While there, like rareness sought in pilgrimage for healing,

The separation overcome,

The influence that makes oasis not a desert,

The so long hoped for, deeply craved, and ever more unbelievable journeys' end.