This I Can Give

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This I Can Give

Sonnet — A Prayer to The Mother, on Day 4 of Navratri

I can bring Thee not the speech all noble,
The well-wrought grammar and high metre
Favoured by proud aristocracy of the soul
To voice in resonant chant every prayer.

I can bring Thee not rich spoils of warring men,
With sword for mind and shield for heart
Battling ignorant night for coming dawn,
Resisting the daily siege on the human fort.

I can bring Thee not bounty of deeds,
Earned by giant labouring souls by will
That hammers the inconscient resistance 
With roaring effort to wrest the goal.

This I can give Thee, the fruit of many lives,
A feeble surrender and a hundred prostrations.