Debt

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Debt

Poem — An Invocation to The Master #131

Oh how many lives I have prepared and waited,
How many dawns witnessed sleepless,
The innumerable dusks that have vanished
Behind that cruel horizon line remorseless.

All the bridal finery now lie behind castaway;
The flower I became, donned petal and bud,
Borne burden of honey for Thee as bee to stay,
But Thy fickle wings to wed never consented.

For Thy heroic urge I have been bodies many,
Upon battlefield and colosseum and forest
As an altar of severed limbs bloody and gory,
And smiled at Thy pleasure in my soul’s exit.

This whole wide world is only by our wooing;
Every sigh from every aching human breast
Is only my pining for Thee in all spreading;
I am every beast’s fevered furious pursuit,

The eager clawed paw scouring entrails;
Am the swooping murderous eagle 
Descending from sky like the furies
That spare no pity to the mortal.

I am the toddler hopping into a puddle
To retrieve Thee from the watery lair,
In toddler as patience I await Thy cuddle,
In his stuttering lisp is my ardour’s flair.

I am the eagerness in every lip preparing
To meet Thee in a magical moment’s kiss.
These I recount solely for Thy remembering,
Or mementos to hold in Thy musing silence.

Wilt Thou yet weigh my passion on a cold will,
What more debt is owed by my mortality still?