It Is Christmas, But I Have Not The Pass. Poem by Subrata Ray

The echoing step of Christmas,
Is aheading on the earth's shore,
And it is just one day more,
And then the universe will be illumined,
With the advent of the brightest of the bright,
But alas! I have not the pass!

I have not the pass like the Magi,
Who with Ganges' devotion,
Watered their eye, and cry,
With wild joy to offer the gift of love,
Who could feel, the divine zeal,
In their mundane cup.

It is Christmas, Alas! I have not the pass.
I have not the ardent longing of Magdalene,
To have the grace, and to be embraced,
With remittance of all my unequal,
And yet I would enthrall and crawl,
Chanting His name, mediating His frame,
For my salvation, I have the Lord.

Lo! there rises the luminous halo,
It is Christmas, how the world feels His touch,
Lo! how love in thousand hearts sprout,
How she, you and me, -are loud,
And how we feel the dispel of the cloud.

No matter whether We have the pass,
Our soul gets contented with His touch!