Quest

Dom Kafle/ Australia

Art thou thy own art to deck this wide earth,
From the fearful beast to the mildest lamb?
Yeh! Thy deemed abode of celestial mirth
That still they call it heaven, sacred home?
Here, under this peepal and lively dawn
Amidst birds’ chirps, criminal kissing wind,
Stand I, here on thy vast torso; this lawn,
In deep sea’s flooding cynosure of mind.
Short laughter-decked faces of these flowers,
This fading sky, those dying stars, weeping boughs
And trees in worsened rape of roaring wind,
Puerile’s my ethereal soul. Heart’s intertwined.
What revelation, what power of glory,
Is this thy holy myrrh? Or’s my reverie?

[04/10/2009]

Tags: D N Kafle