He Is Always Passing By. Poem by Mohabeer Beeharry

He Is Always Passing By.



Let me be
This exuberance of blue
And sun drenched sky,

I would take you
Into my heart
And fill you with the magic of ceaseless happiness.

Let me be the serenity of this cosmic extravaganza,
This sweeping panoply of lushness,
Hills and mountains
Birds and flowers
Light and stars,
I would weave for you garlands of exalting freedom.

Let me be the brook,
Drifting through the fall of autumn leaves
Singing songs of glorious days gone by,
I would with transcendental music
Fill your ears with ripples of love.

Long have I waited by the road side of life,
Sad at heart,
Yearning to catch a sight of you.

Like the vagrant breeze
Laden with fragrance
You are constantly passing by.

But I am a slave
Inebriated by the futile chase of the restless senses.
I see you not.

Every hill,
Every mountain sings your praise.
Every flower blooms but for you.
Every bee seeks you in the honey of the multifarious blossoms.
They have a message for me.

They say you have gone by.
I miss you.
Again
And again.

Free me from the tangles of these enslaving senses
And let my eyes see what I ought to see,
Let me hear your noiseless tread on the green grass
And gentle patter on the straggly pebbles.

You move like the tender morning shadows
Drenched in aureate sunshine,
Like the butterfly
Drifting on the wings of the breeze.
There is no catching you.

They say
Only by love can you be stopped,
If only I could empty the chalice of this heart
And fill it with love!

Sunday, May 15, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: spiritual
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