Thy Aim

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Thy Aim

Poem — An Invocation to The Master #99

Is mine hope so bold, to reach unworthy hands
In worship to Thy feet perched atop heavens?
What heart is to me given, that it dares adore
Thee unreachable beyond mind’s high soar?

What courage is hid in a mere mortal breast
Cast in flesh and tears drawn from earth-dust
To issue a pilgrim hymn that perambulates 
Eternally the holy sanctuary of Thy precincts?

All mine offences to Thee now lash with tears
For Thou dost grant into Thy sanctum entrance,
Accepting the ceaseless oblation of my adoration 
Now Thou doth bind me in orbit of Thy union.

If such be Thy aim for soul and man,
In what hell or abyss shall I not burn
As Thy satellite sun, as Thy rapture-bird
Sing for each aching heart a flame-seed?

What beauteous plot hath Thou drawn
For my soul and body in Thy Brindavan,
Now Thy bliss stamps each mine tear,
I am forever freed from time and fear.

Now am grown officiant of Thy world ceremonies,
A bard and priest of Thy eternal mysteries.