Krishna in the Physical

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Krishna in the Physical

A Sonnet

The night is grim and the assaults real
Grim hosts march on my corporeal.
Am bereft of method, all memory a shadow
Nothing is tangible, a sure progress bestow.

My long past now painfully scrapped
Sheared the sheaths that were draped.
Am now kin to every distant ache
Faithful friend to every misery awake.

My aspiring fire that sought high heavens
Now illumines the Abyss and its denizens.
Yet my fire calls out upon this occult shore 
The magic word that annuls the Abyss evermore.

O Krishna, be not seated in my heart alone
Descend to every cell and make it Thy home.