Aha, That Moment!

 

Aha that contemplative inward time!

Body when reaches its prime;

In harmony with mind, writes a rhyme,

Illusions not, but reality shine.

 

Aha that divine perfect position!

No couple ever found such satisfaction,

Every part stimulates loveliest reaction,—

Soul sends such vibration.

 

Aha that obliviousness to deflected reality;

Self-truths forced for social duty,

This but is the true beauty,

Simple, straight without sociality.

 

Aha that becoming part of the whole!

Where individual plays no role,—

Still, a huge stage with character sole,

And that possibility with single pole.

 

Aha that sudden cosmic struck!

When the ultimate crisply lurk,

And falsely hard-worked walls jerk,

Transform these into heavenly arc.

 

Aha that golden light inside head!

Beats which the dark dead,

Infinite facets cut the fad

To a glittering diamond on something dead.

 

Aha that helplessness of senses!

Struck which through the tenses,

Come they now across the fences,

Liberate which infinity in His ranches.

 

Aha that time of being with the being!

And seeing too much without seeing,

Crowning moment of the body's king;

Yes! Soul triumphant, possessively sing.

The Winner Takes it All

 

There walks the winner; triumphant

Shine of sweat on the brow,

Once he almost gave up, now buoyant

Bosom swells solid for the morrow.

There is the loser's bent head,—

Eyes which once sparkled, dropped dead;

Unnoticed, uncared to destiny's glad;

Bosom hunched back and example bad.

Who makes this greatest loss?

The difference between winning and losing,

Is it deciding time's momentary chaos?

Or those long hours found no time moving.

 

Branded two species; unmatching,

Aah! That even after single hatching.

The Ever Flying Kite

 

See the kite's sway in the sky:

Papered soul pulls for escaping fly,

Corded attachment but to the earthly;—

The life force to its limits finally.

The will of the soul for free float,

Alas! Possible only jerks lot,

Till the last drop hot,

The instinct, the desire leaves not.

 

And the momentary penury released,

As if to get the prisoner appeased,

What a beggar the besieged!

Pious but still teased.

Yes, broken at last! That wondrous free flight,

Alas but until fall for earthly delight.

To the Spring Bygone

 

Summer hast arrived

As all the spring flowers begone;

When so many smiles shone,

Sun brighter now; perfume fried :

Flowery dust lie buried,

Small whiff and even that gone;

Scented maiden's ashes thrown,

Sis's dusty reaches get seed.

 

Silver Goddess sweetly hiss

Upon everything from leaves to tongues:

Dry leaves' short sway;

Discharmed lips open to kiss

The lost perfumed songs;—

Spring doth seem so far away.

Little Morning Star

 

Little houri! When I saw

Thou for the first,—

Morning star in the horizon east,

Fought which night's awe,

To change my morning's law.

And there I was standing wonderstruck,

Pondering, now when sky has been recast,

Dost this new star takes row

To shine for me during the day?

Sun's light I have'd enough,

What dost this new celestial angel creates?

There I was cajoling my new ray,

The lips parted for a laugh;

O my ears, what heaven narrates?

The Immortal Eating Mortality

 

Death, when thou'll come,

I don't know how'd I feel,

O thou destroyer of life's zeal,

Thou keep perfect mum,

So many noises fall upon thy ears dumb,

Thus, nobody knows how to deal

With the deaf host gulping last meal;

Listening not to prayers and Godly hymn.

 

O thou majestic unknown hunter,

So certain is thy grip on the prey

That lifelong we prepare ourselves as food thine,

And thou quickly saunter

Over the eyes with last ray,

Death, how you'd stamp mortality mine?

Puzzled Summer

 

Wispy summer bides a hesitating bye,

As nature's law forces exile

To the other hemisphere, along Nile,

Awaits which eagerly hot fairy's sigh,

That tropical ever-greenery doth wry

Over the cool lover gone vile;—

Makest love too much in spring's guile,

Over-bred, she calls thou with a cry.

 

Thou but autumn-stricken here:

Pine for these dew rainy nights

Over the winter flowers already sown,

Like a mother thou fear

Warmly for children left alone in cold's delights,

And with a fleecy sob thou moan.