RAPTURE

  Rapture

When in these rapturous states I fall,

I hearken to every beauty’s call,

And in passion I embrace,

All the gifts of nature’s grace.

When the green grass I do see,

I am filled with infinite glee,

And the song the chirping birds sing,

Makes my heart in resonance ring.

          

         * * * *

Paddy fields, so green,

A sight for sore eyes,

Never had I seen,

Such blue skies.

I sat at the edge,

Watched the river flow,

Such fragrance, such cool,

I never had known.

My legs in the water,

Hands in the air,

I breathed in this freshness,

That was everywhere.

The setting sun cast,

A reddish glow in the west,

I had awakened now,

To an eternal quest.

       * * * *

The cuckoo cries ”spring is here”,

The flowers bloom, the sky is clear.

Everywhere it is red, yellow and green,

A sight so pretty to be seen.

The birds inhabit the blue skies,

The bee from flower to flower flies,

The river water full and clear flows,

Fed by the mountain’s melting snows.

I stand to absorb all this joy,

Transformed again into a little boy,

His feelings so pure,

In his state so secure,

That never a moment,

Does he lament,

His impermanence.

          * * * *

When I see the sun does shine,

I marvel at that power divine,

And in its warmth I fall asleep,

Into a world of dreams I creep.

There I see such wonderous sights

They take me on fantastic flights,

A thousand visions dance around,

the air is filled with a melodious sound.

  * * *  *

In the east a golden dawn breaks,

As the sun rises,

With all the splendour of a ceremony,

The sky is lit with an orange fire,

The birds chirp in harmony,

The night’s agents disappear with the dark,

Good things begin to rise with joy,

Yet another day to live.

The fragrance of the morning air,

Embraces me like a lover’s arm

I wake, stretch my limbs

And yawn, with sheer delight,

Its good to see once again,

This morning light.

In the coolness of the moon,

In her embrace I did swoon,

My heart with love overflows,

In the dark my passion glows.

          

          * * * *

In the depths of every cave,

I find these figures that make me rave,

Figures of stone many ages old,

They still stand firm and bold.

When I touch these cold stones,

They come to life, I feel their bones,

Through the ages, hand in hand we walk,

About Gods, kings and queens they talk.

   

There I see great battles fought,

The horror and glory that they brought,

All the blood that did flood the field,

The victory markings on the shield.

There sat the glorious king in court,

With all his people in rapport,

As the dancing girls came whirling on,

An era in its brilliance shone.

Oh! exquisite Ellora,

Your beauty breeds terror in my heart,

For as I stood,

Gazing at your Kailasa,

The spectre of my present vacuity,

Stood gazing down at me.

Oh! what hands were those,

That gave thee thine shape?

What mind was it,

That conceived the beauty,

Which till then had lain hidden,

Behind nature’s veil?

And now ages could’nt tear away,

That expression from your face.

You are alive though

Your creator is dead.

My hands, oh! my hands,

They could only feel,

Your smoothened curves.

How I wish they could paint,

The joy in my heart,

At the sight of your silent splendour.

    

It was in Ajanta,

That I peered into a dark chamber,

There sat the Buddha,

Steeped in divine slumber.

At my entrance, he did wake,

I thought I saw him smile;

I gazed in awe,

Dumfounded for awhile,

For this magnificent obsession,

Gave rise to a succession,

Of a thousand more Buddhas,

And everyone did smile.

Oh Buddha! if you could impart,

Life to these stones,

What could you have been?

I stand here and imagine,

A sight I never had seen.

Men now have become stones,

But these stones of yore,

Though devoid of flesh and bones,

They still live on.

Men now know no art,

Which can reveal and mould

The images of the heart;

Their hands are tied,

To machines they have built,

And under them, they now do wilt.

There I saw Lord Shiva’s dance,

I was drowned in divine trance,

And my head in veneration bow,

To the Lord who rules above.

I marvel at these men who mould,

Stones that speak of ages old,

All the fervour of their heart,

Has poured in through their supreme art.

Sometimes when to these heights I soar,

I feel this fever more and more,

And in delirium I do rant,

All this fervour’s magical chant.

“I love everything on earth,

That has given rise to beauty’s birth,

Every joy, pity and pain,

In my heart a passion gains.

In my rapture I had seen,

All that love that never had been,

Now once again I spread my wings,

As my heart in fervour sings.