Poem: Prayer to Mother

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Mother if it please you if it be your will

On this mountain of unreason this illusory hill

That I embrace and call sacred ground

Let the pebble of Truth be found.



Not knowing its shape size or colour I search

From round stone to rough rock to red thing I lurch

Scraping like a creature possessed

Grasping each new thing to my breast.



Truth is indifferent to light and to shade

By people’s opinion not unmade nor made

Neither blooms in profit nor withers in loss

Then teach me to equally love gold and dross.



Mother take my hand guide my feet be my eye.

Confused by intentions no compass have I

I do not  know how to look where to turn

Sift harsh truthfulness from deceitful concern.



Like a candle in the winds my faith flutters

Oftentimes I doubt my purpose my sanity.

Help me guard the flame Mother don’t let it die

Else what shall I live for and why?

-- Krish
 
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I wrote and first posted this on July 27, 2009. This is a re-post.

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