A Dream

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A Dream

Poem — An Invocation to The Master #218

An old dawn climbed the steep horizon 
Slowly with ancient weary ray-limbs,
Far below upon earth yet to awaken
Flowed in her antique paths Ganges.

On her wide crowded banks watching,
A soul alone with aspiration’s fever,
A fire that singed without burning,
An ache persisting without inflicter.

In silence they communed;
“O Mother, carrying the chill of snow
In thy waters from Himalayas heaped,
What word from Ash-Smeared bringest thou?”

From the liquid murmur she spoke,
“A wrinkle is upon His brow
For the ways of men doth make
Fair earth to stoop so low,

And His calm slowly doth give way
To a implacable vehemence grave;
I seek for a soul that can sway
His anger to a smile that can save.”

“Oh, what soul O Mother can that do,
To Him who lords the born and unborn?
What must a soul do, wither must it go,
To save the earth from this direr turn?”

Said she, “To absolve all in my waters,
Desire and passion and aims utterly,
To let my force unimpeding pass
Through all parts of being freely,

That shall please Him the most,
He who guards the worlds for good,
Needs but one worthy soul blest
To revive His dormant benevolent mood.”

Said I, “Thy shores are crowded yet
I don’t see any, and am by fever afflicted,
Who shall prove to thy cause best
I know not, to do as thou hast instructed.”

And she, “Malformed, yet thou must suffice,
Come to waters and the ritual dip perform,
As the rose in innocent beauty blooms
But in its heart harbours the ugly worm,

So art thou, draped and guarded by fire
Yet bearing the stain of earthly grain,
Head then to my waters with all thy mire,
I’ll cleanse thee until He alone doth remain.”

I walked then impelled by her word
To the sandy banks of my release,
Entering the waters I then prayed,
“O Thou who ever hearest my pleas,

For Thee and all that is Thine 
I make this gesture in intent true,
To all in benevolence do incline
And seal all lives in Thy light too.”

I dipped in her waters then,
By the first I lost the earthly ways,
The second absolved me from heaven,
In the third I exceeded Time and Space

And found myself resting at His feet.
It is done I thought but startling woke
From the blessed dream in sleep’s nest,
But heard my soul that in silence spoke,

“More real than life is this thy dream,
As the thought of Him is also Him!”