Reaching Out

The sky groans like one in despair
and I have no sleep tonight.
Are you out on this stormy night
on your journey to me, my friend?

Again and again I open my door
and look out on the darkness
but I can see nothing before me
and wonder where lies your path.

By what hazy shore of the ink-black river
by what far edge of the frowning forest
through what mazy depth of gloom
do you thread your path to come to me?

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 23

Henry Victor          29.09.2012

Bloomed in Heart

I was not aware that the lotus had bloomed
for my mind that day was straying nonstop
and the flower remained unnoticed
despite my flower basket being empty.

Now and again though sadness startled me
and I started up from my dream
feeling a sweet trace of a strange fragrance
carried by that south wind.

That vague sweetness made my soul
ache with longing and it seemed to me
that was the eager summer breath
seeking for its accomplishment.

I knew not then that it was so near
that it was mine and that this
perfect sweetness had blossomed
deep in the depth of my own heart.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 20

Henry Victor          28.09.2012

Wait

If you speak not I will, with patience, fill ears
with your silence; I will keep still enduring
your speechlessness in heart, wait like a night
with starry vigil, her head bent low.

Morning surely will come, darkness vanish with
your voice pouring down from sky in golden streams,
your words, then, will take wings in songs of birds,
and melodies breaking from every flower in the forest.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 19

Henry Victor          27.09.2012

Mercy of Refusals

My desires are countless and my cry is pitiful
but you always save me by your hard refusals
and this strong mercy, this tough love
has penetrated and spread wholly into my life.

Daily you make me worthy of the simple
but greater gifts you give me unasked such as
this sky and the light, this body and the life
with a mind saving me from the perils of my desire.

There are times when I lazily linger
and times when I hurry toward my goal
but you very cruelly hide yourself
from my face and my disciplined feel.

Daily you make me worthy of your acceptance
packed with your complete and constant refusals
refusing me ever and ever so immediately
saving me from risks of weedy and vague desire.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 14

Henry Victor          26.09.2012

Time to Move

What delight is there in gazing at emptiness
missing the thrill of moving through the air
with those ecstatic notes of the distant song
floating from, and inviting to the other shore.

It is the moment to launch out my boat
and let go the lazy hours
of this shore to pass by.

The spring has done its flowering
and taken leave leaving me
with the burden of faded futile flowers
while I waited and loitered.

The waves have become clamorous
and in the shady lane on the bank
the yellow leaves flutter and fall.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 21

Henry Victor          25.09.2012

My Journey

My journey both in terms of time and distance is long
and it was in the first gleam of light, my chariot, I pursued
my voyage through countless wildernesses of the worlds
leaving my track on several stars and many planets.

It is the most distant path that comes nearest to you
and training is most intricate that leads to the simplest tune
as the traveler comes to his door after knocking alien doors
and the inner shrine opens only after the wandering in outer worlds.

My eyes wandered much far and wide
before I shut and said, 'Here is you!'
The questing, pursuing of thousand tears, 'Oh, where?'
melts always, I know, into the flood of assurance, 'I am!'
 
Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 12

Henry Victor          24.09.2012

Not Yet

The song I came to sing remains unsung
despite my spending my days in tuning my instrument.
The flash for singing is yet to come and words too
have not been set but the wish is firmly settled in heart.

The blossom is not yet open despite the sighing
of the wind and I have neither seen his face
nor heard his voice except his footsteps
softly but surely from the road before my house.

The day to entertain him is here
but the lamp is not lit and I cannot ask him
into my house despite my hope of meeting
with him and this meeting is not yet.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 13

Henry Victor          22.09.2012

Chanting and Ranting

Stop this chanting and singing
with counting your prayer beads!
Whom do you worship in this lonely
dark corner of a temple with doors all shut?

Open your eyes and see
your God is not before you!
God is there where the worker is working
the new hard ground making new paths.
 
God is in pain with men, women
and children whining, weeping, crying
sweating, panting and pleading
in hard, cold and old human constructs.
 
Cast away your religiosity, perpetuating greed
adding profit and more comfort.
Like naked God walk around opening your heart
to the silent bleeding of human hearts.

Your deliverance is buried in your bonds
to the bleeding creatures as the Master himself
has embraced his bondage to his creation
and is bound with us all for ever.

Come out from your meditations to meet him
in toil, leaving aside your flowers and incense!
No harm comes to you if your clothes become
a little tattered, or stained, by sweat of your brow.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 11

Henry Victor          22.09.2012

Foolish Beggar

My soul, oh … you fool!
Can you carry yourself on your own shoulders?

My self, oh … you beggar!
Do you beg at your own door-step?

Cast your weight on his hands
for he can, and he will, bear all,
and never look behind in regret.

Your desire at once puts out
the light from the lamp
it touches with its breath.

Take not your gifts
with your unholy unclean hands
accepting only what is offered
by him, the sacred love.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 09

Henry Victor          21.09.2012

My Endeavours

Life of my life four ventures
I shall ever endeavour
for your sake, as acts of my worship.
These four will fence my life’s undertaking.
 
Feeling your touch on my limbs
I will keep my body pure!

Knowing you, the truth, that kindled
the light of reason in my mind
I shall keep untruths out of my thoughts!

Feeling your seat in the shrine of my heart
I will drive evil and its manifestations
away from my mind offering you
the flower, my love, my me!

Knowing it is your power
that gives me strength to act
I shall endeavour to reveal you in my actions!

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 04

Henry Victor          07.09.2012

Breakable Bowl

You made me, this breakable bowl
with endless potentials which is your principle
pleasure, and you constantly empty
ever to fill with lively fresh life.

This little flute you carry in your hand
over hills and vales carries your constant breath,
your multiple melodies, making my little heart
lose its limits giving birth, in joy, to ineffable chants.
 
Your infinite gifts continuously come to me
on these tiny and feeble hands of mine
where for aeons you have poured on them
your blessings and still, for more, there is room.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 01

Henry Victor          09.09.2012

But For Now

Let me sit beside you
and gaze at your face;
my tasks I will complete later
but for now let me sit with you.

Away from the sight of your gaze
my mind is restless knowing no respite
making my work an endless toil
in a shoreless sea of slog.

The summer is at my window
with its sighs and murmurs
and the busy servant bees are working
tirelessly, collecting at your court, flowering plot.

But for me it’s time to sit
to gaze at your face!

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 5

Henry Victor          09.09.2012

Only You

I want you and you alone;
for it is you, your feet only I seek;
let my tongue, hence, without an end
repeat the same but with heart in unison.
 
Desires distracting me day and night

are false and empty in essence

for the night is hidden further in dark;

let my plea for light even in my oblivion

ring: ‘I want you and you alone’.

The storm seeks its end in peace
even when it strikes against peace
with all its might through the night
as my rebellion strikes against your love
crying: ‘I want you and you alone’.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 38

Henry Victor          09.09.2012

Un-closed Path

My journeying, I assumed, had come
to its end with my wits and strengths;
and the road ahead, now closed
with all provisions exhausted;
and now for me time has come
to take shelter in soundless unimportance.

But I find that your will, your mercies
knows no end in me;
and when worn-out words die
my lips chant new songs;
when ancient paths are lost a new nation
with its marvels is uncovered.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 37

Henry Victor          07.09.2012

This Little Flower

Pluck this little flower

and take it, delay not
else it will droop
and drop into dust.

I do not seek a place
in your garland, but
honour it with a touch
a pinch from your hand.

Pluck this little flower

and take it, delay not
else the day may end
before this offering reach you.

Though the colour is not bright
and the smell is of a faint scent
take this flower for your service
and pluck it while there is time.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 06

Henry Victor          07.09.2012

Living Freedom

Let me become a human

with head held high
and heart free of fear.

Let me school

where knowledge is free
and the world is not broken
into fragments with walls
too narrow to tame thoughts.

Let me school

where words emerge
only from the depth of truth.

And let me graduate

from that university
where tireless striving stretches
its arms towards perfection
and clarity of reason is never lost
in the dreary desert sand of dead habits
while my mind is always awake
to walk and to be led forward
by you, the ever present
intimate mystery and joyous awe.

Into that nation, that heaven

ever-widening thought and action
to that state of freedom
let me re-locate.
 
Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 35

Henry Victor          07.09.2012