Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Remember the days

Remember the days
when as a child I was involved
with playthings
and caught in my own self-talk;
Haven't I crossed that fool's paradise
and only the playthings
varying over time;
doing self-talk or talking about self
the foolish child lost in play;
Alwars talk about a Child
playing creation games
again and again;
The Great Masters of the Faith plead
'don't make us objects for your play;
rather deem to consider us
objects of Thine causeless pity!'
The divine swan of Dakshineswar
is talking of a child remembering
its mother and all the playthings
thrown afar;
'a day gone waste!
yet I have not seen thee!'
so Gadadhar plunged
at the hanging sword of the Mother;
but here am I dulling all the swords
hanging or in action
to escape realisation
that may occur
perhaps by any chance,
this way or that way;
only the butter-thief knows
how to falsify my game
and conquer me against my plans;
for he knows how to play
and break any design
by his playmates;
waiting for that Child
kills all my grown up airs
and I really begin
to grow to His childhood
and become His playmate again;
but what a task!
breaking me through the spine;
but never will he give up,
I hope,
till he becomes all mine.

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