All He Makes

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All He Makes

A Sonnet

It burns in me now, O Forefathers ancient
The fires you kindled by Ganga’s waters ardent,
Billowing and ebullient in fiery splendour
The secret Fire, the sole wonder.

One arose, Varaha-like, from sacred East
Daring, venturing deeds as only he must.
Plumbed the Abyss to wake the sleeping God
By innumerably-armed will the Titan expelled.

The Fire he held of Savitr, and Mahi
Bore the cataract of lightnings by Ila and Saraswati.
He, swift and impetuous, primal and uncaring
The Bull of the Veda, or Rudra of terrible daring.

All He ventured echoes in the heart of me
All He makes sacred solely for Her to see.

PS: Our offering to the Divine Mother, on day 9 of Navratri 2018.