Waiting

I spent the whole night waiting for him in vain

and I fear that in the morning he may suddenly
appear at my door when I, tired, have fallen asleep!

Oh friends, leave the way open and stop him not.

If the sounds of his steps do not wake me, please

do not wake me for I wish not to be called
from my slumber by a clamorous choir of birds
or by the rioting wind at the festival of dawn light.

Undisturbed, let me sleep even if my Lord suddenly

comes to my door, for my sleep is precious but waiting
for his touch, my closed eyes open their lids to light
in his smile as he stands like a dream in a dark night.

Let him appear before my sight as the first light

and the first form; let him, with his glance, be the first
thrill of joy to my awakened soul, and let my return
to self also be the immediate return to him.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 47

Henry Victor          31.12.2012

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