Mirror Thy Dreams

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Mirror Thy Dreams

Poem — An Invocation to The Master #43

My silence hath a million tongues,
Upon each a limpid fire doth burn,
Every flame-limb for Thee dances
As the earth to its beloved Sun.

A thousand names the world doth bring,
Offerings to Thee proffered from lips,
Choir-birds from tree-temples do sing
A splendid medley of paean songs.

A hundred incenses rise from hearts
Bearing fragrances sweet and poignant
In smoke-cups travelling through heavens
To render homage to Thy blessed feet.

Each heart and lip and bird borrowed
From my silence their speech and music,
Every ode and melody by me tutored,
My fire enflames every thought’s wick.

Yet sate not the snares I laid for Thee,
I make of my body and mind and soul
A perennial yagña O Eternity,
Blend then my parts into Thy integral whole.

In all I am and all I shall be,
Mirror Thy golden dreams O Sire of me.