Tribute

When they said you were gone,
My mind did not absorb that thought:
I saw you walking down the stairs
head slightly stooped, dignity in pace;
I heard your voice, grave and calm,
never raised, your nod
of understanding, or of praise,
Your commitment to duty, unfazed:
I felt again your deep desire to bind your clan,
Thus in our minds you'll ever stand.

Death no longer saddens

Death no longer saddens me
for the dead live more vibrantly
in memory, than in flesh;
and fears, nor tears
nor weight of years
destroys those that die:
they live free, unencumbered
by sophistry. in Death's lap
sits Peace, gentle child
of Grace profound,
earthly cares them
no longer hound; they are
at liberty to rise high
above ground, to touch eternity.

When the Blind See

Eyes shut in blind faith, I did not see you,
My Child, escape into your moulds:
A mould of faith where you burnt yourself
Incense-like;and  the one of anger
Destructive, unruly force unleashed
in torrid torrents; a conformist
you clung to values of yore
then broke into non-conformist mould
to sink and sail, then sail and sink
floating,and  floundering in serach
of goal at the end to reach.
Not alone are you, my Child,
in your voyage to the unchartered;
your spirit our slumber breaks
to pull us awake , to dig deeper,
to unearth hidden treasures, untold
No room today for half measures
for pain e'er waylays our pleasures.

Unseen Stream

Unseen flows the stream 

hidden in depths of silence, meek,

so far far down, buried deep

neath layers and layers of sleep;

its gurgle, its sparkle shaded

for years on years, it quietly creeps

down darkened pathways, unique

in aloneness, over mountains steep-

in search of light, in search of life

yearning to bloom, to over reach

its bonds, take a daring leap

across worlds, to attain its peak..

etrenal its flow, it does not know

what destiny stores, on it goes

merry or sad, its waters ride

full of life from shore to shore.

To Duty

Hail Duty! Daughter of stern Faith

Alone you walk, unmindful of sweet paths

Your face set in grim vision of right

No merriment in you, no moonlight bright,

Strict Mistress, you show no rosy grace

But firmly stride at your merciless pace.

In fear we venerate your name

In your shadow live a hundred slain.

In vain Frolick dances at your feet

To draw you out, to replace your gravity. 

O Maid sworn to life celibate 

Look not with disdain at beings humane

Unable to reach hieghts, or they that remain

Wedded to soft glow, to live furthermore.

Pathways

One road leads backwards   to a heartless past,
the path not joyless, but gravel-strew, sharp,
where bloodied feet leave a crimson trail
that sears its way into a hapless heart.

The second, a dreary trudge, unmarked
through narrow and winding lanes,
knowledge of loss a beastly burden,
a mindless sojourn into taverns dark.

And in between, a Golden Highway, beamimg bright
yet marked with shady patches that ignite
a soul-destroying rage in mind or heart,
like snapping street digs following starnger's plight.

And the last, half hidden in undergrowth
a path so remote that few dare
to tread, save ascetics and the insane
who crave no earthly joys or gains mundane
but walk as somnambulists, unknowing of worth.