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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
 

Ope

to mine

enemies
 

Artless,

alone
 
*
 
It is

wan

provenance
 

Sweet source

of

my strains
 

Lays of

All Minstrels
 

Chanting

doleful

refrains
 
*
 

With her,

beside

me

 

I soar

like a

drone
 

Without

her to

guide me
 


I sink –
 

Like a

Stone

* On a Himalayan childhood, left behind
 

[© R.Kanth 2022]

 
Professor Rajani Kanth, is Author of Coda, A Day in the Life, and Expiations
 

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