The Journey

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The Journey

Poem

I wondered often whence this mighty change
Across heights and depths and its sweeping range.
For I knew not the lore nor possessed natively
The craft nor character nor could think acutely.

Like a dwarf commissioned to the labour of a Titan,
The start and middle and end were all uncertain.
At the footsteps of these imposing edifices huge
I have gazed in awe with littleness as my refuge.

In some fortuitous moment I commenced the tread,
Through rise and fall and rise I have blundered
My way through this harsh terrain trackless
Like a shadow pilgrim trekking an ascent voiceless.

There were no musings grandiose or subtle meditations
Only were constant a dogged doubt and its ruminations.
But I trod as one forlorn yet dreaming of hope
For a shining god to appear or a secret cavern to ope.

I met no mystic stranger or haggard hermit enroute,
Who by their quirk would confer on me Yoga’s fruit.
There were no visions splendorous or heaven voices
That would throw a boon or direct me to the muses.

Always the wrath of the mundane was upon me
And the impossibility of the peaks is all I could see.
But one day I looked askance and was surprised
To see by my trivialities I have yet been carried

By some hands of grace and a heart of love,
Hidden yet to my senses refusing to wear a face.
Now my mind grows still, my heart just ripe
I know there will emerge from this chaos and strife

The vision of a Feet, an outline of that Beatitude.
Head bowed in reverence and a heart of gratitude,
I shall offer the meagre gatherings of my long curve
To that Soul of the worlds, that deep splendored Love.