The Muse*

 
 

Green

were

the meadows
 

I wandered

as

a child

 

grey

were

the skies

 

where

tempests

blew wild

 

wherein

I

descanted

 

dreams

meek

and mild
 
*
 
Boy grew

To man
 

but ere

I could

grasp them

 

life’s

treasons

began
 
*

 

Felled was

I

often

 

but

ardor

unquenched
 

all but

dismembered
 

still

sailored

on
 
*
 
Built me

a

fane

 

far from

it

all

 

to pay

Muse

due homage
 

if she

vouchsafed

to call
 
*
 
She came

and she

went

 

as often

as

not
 

leaving me

frantic

 
fey and

forgot
 
*
 
The world

is illusion

 

our senses

refine

 

in garbling

confusion

 

that

boggle

the mind
 
*
 
Yet is

there

order
 

as

sublime

as true
 

underneath

the

drapings
 

in All

that we

view
 
*
 
Words

scarce

define it

 

ineffable

it lives
 

mysteries

confine it

 

in the

Spirit

that gives
 
*
 
whence

am I

harbored
 

though

far far

from home
 

frail

to mine

enemies
 
 

epicene
alone
 
*
 
It is

wan

provenance

 

sweet source

of

my strains

 

lays

of lost

minstrels

 

chanting

doleful

refrains
 
*
 

With her

beside

me

 

I soar

like a

drone
 

without

her to

guide me

 

I sink

like a

stone

* Of a Himalayan childhood, left behind

 
[©R.Kanth 2023]

 

Professor Rajani Kanth, is Author of Coda (A Novel), A Day in the Life (Novel), Expiations (Verse), and Farewell to Modernism (Political Economy Tract).