“O! hast thou seen a vernal Morning bright. Gem every bank and trembling leaf with dews, Tinging the green fields with her amber hues, Changing the leaden streams to lines of light? Then seen dull Clouds, that shed untimely night, Roll envious on, and every ray suffuse, Till the chill’d Scenes their early beauty …
“Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews …
‘gagan math gaib nisân gade’ – Kabir. – ‘The Hidden Banner is planted in the temple of the sky; there the blue canopy decked with the moon and set with bright jewels is spread. There the light of the sun and the moon is shining: still your mind to silence before that splendour. Kabîr says: …
Beyond the place of action in its predictable causes, over the awnings of lofty judgemental pauses. Conserved of the senses until met upon reverential swoon, undeterred to inner light, the sheen un-jaded to childlike and sacred moody interludes. Redeemed to be viewed, like dusty letters in the keep of time discovered in a vintage assemble …
In this illimitable world, knowledge in the wonder that is known. Holding up as it were, a mirror of consciousness. The reflection to appear, the beauteous bear. The in-between and unbeknownst, another’s view of perception. Hallows a smile of acceptance, to wear and revere. (Art an original sketch of Saint John the Baptist by …
He who bends to himself a joy, Does the winged life destroy ; But he who kisses the joy as it flies. Lives in eternity’s sunrise. If you trap the moment before it’s ripe, The tears of repentance you’ll certainly wipe ; But, if once you let the ripe moment go. You can never wipe …