Krishna In Gold

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Krishna In Gold

Poem — An Invocation to The Master #177

I have seen them march, grim armies that a halo wear,
Lead by a form whose brows the clouds did smear,
A robe of black sheathed his black-hearted shape,
He was night manifest in form to annul hope.

He strode across the earth with curved boots of iron,
Strident and cataclysmic was his approach even.
Upon the sanctum of the world he ventured,
The home and hearth where I was fostered.

A dire pomposity he brought with him,
Steeds all black, iron-maned with hoofs grim.
Each steed was a force of fate dreamt in hell
With ominous augurs none could foretell.

I saw his seal, a medieval instrument of pain,
His lore a lie and a dubious sacrifice his sign.
His flock were blind, only the braille of his book
They could read and this for truth they mistook.

The last parcel of land and hearts he would win
But for Krishna’s charm all earth he could gain.
This vision of despair I did clearly see,
Oh my people, my people cried the heart of me.

With my mendicant will I wove a prayer true,
My ardour its syllables, strung by my soul’s sinew,
I sang, “O Thou who seest all and rulest all,
Man and bird and beast held as Thy thrall,

Art Thou willing to pass this havoc 
That shall perforce Thy future mock?
O Indweller, forever august and divine,
To Thee our hearts in supplication incline.

Be Thou to us Krishna in gold,
Upender of Time and our saviour foretold.
To Thy play of ages our souls are given,
Only mark a place for us in Thy Brindavan.

Earth redeemed by Thy golden sun,
All men shall repose under a silver moon,
And I shall pour my ardour anew in dance
As a deathless star doting Thy universe!

No sleep or night shall then visit my brow
And I shall sing ceaselessly of Thy supernal love.”