The Biggest You. Poem by Subrata Ray

The Biggest You.

You are what, that might have been,
Free from hags and leather screen,
Above the muddy swine with no whine,
An escaped dove in an unarrowed green.

You might not have been,
Dark, insipid, and blind,
Waging tail, ghostly frail,
Plotting heinous ruins,
Of sermons with no morns,
Save the self bribing.

You might have been, Death itself in life,
With no hope of money, woman and wife,
The idealized abstract, -clear head and aching heart,
A transparent mirror to let the Sun shine,
A -live Divine, with fountain of devotion's wine.

You might not have been a wailing Lament,
But for your temptation’s alloy,
But for your humane-boat to carry,
The fallen, the desolate, the weary,

You might have a secluded cottage,
Amidst pastoral lea and fountain brook,
Far from the spoiling intellect, and political hooks,
You could have the simplest equipage,
To stimulate and awaken the Divine rage.

You might have been a careless care,
Flourishing from within fair to fair,
Softly glimmering God-particle-waves,
From the treasure house of hidden cave.