The Last Desire

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The Last Desire

Poem — An Invocation to The Master #241

Ah desire, that ingenious shape shifting Djinn,
Comrade since birth and unfailing counsel,
How its numerous tribe in ego’s secure den
Wove for me in life a near constant miracle.

How they all grew in multitudinous hues,
Bright and dark, fruitful or inconsequential,
Painting the many scenes of life’s canvas
With events for my becomings inevitable.

But Thy great breath arrived in a season
And purged my Djinn and his tribe,
Trace I see none since Thou didst begin
To remould the nature of my globe.

Now all is a battle where I must leave
Every prop of action afforded by desire,
Only to silence I must perforce cleave
And await the movement of Thy fire.

One last desire yet lingers in me
Taunting my wake and sleep ever,
How must my soul then perforce be
In company of this persistent fever?

Yet I grapple with this last desire somehow,
For my last white desire is entirely Thou.