Poetry Collection
Verses on spirit, silence & the infinite
O Bliss Herder
Unpeopled are the hundred roads of desire,Silent the hundred chambers of longing,Mute are all the sw
Process
How many selves yet remain to burn awayIn the pittance of a single self name bound,I wake to death o
Toddler Soul
What a pair we make, Thou the MasterAnd I the bumbling stumbling acolyte,Was there a contrast ever m
Harp Unplayed
From how many faces hast Thou peeredAnd lured my pain-shy heart to dream,Reticent to the stings I ye
Of Pride
My voice inward turned whispering accused,“Of pride, thy counsellor, I must speak,A subtle haughtine
O Soul
What dire fascinations has thou sought O soul,Wading into murk of earth like some maidenIn flush of
School Me Better
Deep is turn of the grainPaced by momentums not entirely known,Hence our wills come up vainTo herd c
Famed Dawn
A little repose for the battered nerves is given,The mind yet caught in the tremor of events,A new b
Ends of the Ages
What expense of thought and feeling have I sparedIn pursuit and worship of Thee who art yet afar?Ric
One Last Mercy
A mercy was the birth Thou hadst conferred,A mercy the twin earth-orbs to gaze on Thee,A mercy the l
Boon-Giver
What remains for our colloquy yet to beWhen is plain in a hundred brazen excessesThy transgressions
Our Remit
The storm is ThineAnd all that whirls within,To Thee we fervently submitAll that exceeds our remit.
Dost Thou Know
Are there withered moons pouring melancholy,As if from a worn beaker is poured stale wine?Are there
Victory’s Spoils
Does it befit Thee this all too human jealousy,Banishing from my person every cord mortal,Hoarding a
Tip It Now
How dost Thou huddle in my petty personAll Thy vastnesses and the heights,Art Thou not cramped by an
Hope & Faith
Bah, begone prophet of hope!Peddler of oils curing nothing,Dreaming a cure in every herbAnd in each
Make Me Not
Oh make me not an empty flame mere glowingLike some pale pointless star on the firmamentFor what use
Our Pairing
How apt is this our pairing,One immaculate and other aspiring,A never-born and an ever-born,A perpet
Thy Lustre
A purple screen of dusk now descendsMarking the close of a futile day,A little lamp is lit and its f
Healer
Ah Healer, striving to cure me of the earthly stain,How noble Thy aim, how divinely benign!A passage
Pith & Grain
Oh how poorly effulgent is Knowledge’s Sun,A mere million rays cast out in profuse vanity,All petty