A Soul’s Quest


Swirling wind bands
Sift swells of sands
Spin undulating lands…….


Sound of a swoon of a maroon
Somewhere amidst the shifting mounds of dune
Shock the sandy aroma of the noon……….


My Soul, an Eye, I did spy
Slip out of an arid case, no, not to stultify……
“My Soul!” in sordid death I did sigh
And in a trice it filled in form to float on high.


An Eye full of mildewed images,
Dreary mouldy memories
Of varied mortal visages…….
“Wish they were virtual fantasies….mere mirages!”


Here, beyond the coast of Time
The Blacksmith is smelting in His Smithy.
The Eye waits….. chastened and purged
To be screwed to the sticking place,
The core…..a cold and clammy space.
A mellifluous strain wafts as if urged
From some reed ; hark…. the requiem, so pithy.
And the bells at the Gates chime….


God exhales the divine cadence which the spirit doth inhale
And as it clothes in flesh and stirs with life
Implores, “Wish this hallowed haven is a grail
Of eternal maternal love, pure and rife……
Wish the sibling that next will hail
This self-same chalice of love and life
Is not yet another with the spirit of Cain
To chain me to precincts of pain!”