Poetry Collection
Verses on spirit, silence & the infinite
I Come, I Come
Row, row the oar of willTo the beats of a drummer time,Strive, strive by thought still,Until is foun
O Grandeur
O King, O Exemplar, O Star beyond measures,From what supreme aristocracy of the soulWert Thou wrough
For Thee
Too brief is the lease of solar hoursLent by arc of a common day,How press the siege of circumstance
Thy Infant
Through the relay of the hours that runPassing the baton moment to momentI would yet catch a pause t
Irreversible Change
No sap I find in savours of the world,No hues I glean in these painted forms,Everywhere is a mood du
Thou Alone
Birthmarks have I none, nor ideograms of prophecy,No features of distinction, nor lineage of old glo
Thy Words
What hast Thou poured in Thy wordsThat it must baffle and allure me so?What light is in there that v
Threshold
O keeper of silences, guardian of our havens,Lofty are thy reprieves, above the press of days,Season
Am Companioned
Another dusk closes the page of dayWhose light seeks refuge behind the hills,All Nature pauses its l
As At Start
A hundred anchors are now cut asunder,A great breath and a vast sky are companions,Only Thy whim mak
Beloved Unseen
How many years hast Thou tainted of mine,Illumining my days with shining thoughtsBearing down from T
The Coel and I
How many aches does it continually feel,That tiny feathery pain wracked breast?Perched on tree like
What Hope
Who is it that has entered my being’s night,Whose the masked face that sabotages so,Who scuttles my
Human Stain
Long have I been a lamp by means human,My body a malformed cup of earthly clay,The wick from thought
In Thee
What use to me cadence of silvery speechOr the vain ornamentation of faux custom,What use to me fine
The Last Desire
Ah desire, that ingenious shape shifting Djinn,Comrade since birth and unfailing counsel,How its num
Touchstone
To what end to measure the mountain’s heightOr to weigh the waters of the oceans deep,To what end to
Solitary Adventure
Not a flutter, not a ripple is in my life-sails,Bare is my mind-sky without a doubt-cloud,My body is
All I Owe
My hours in a procession do passLike pilgrims to vow of silence given,In each hour something sacred
To What End
A new sun charts its course in meOver the inner sky that slowly unveils,Its patterns of movement I c
It Was Decreed
Must our colloquies then abrupt endWhen so many mysteries remain veiled yet,Are there no ideals that