My divine space

I have a small room within myself

plush and posh

disposed with all the amenities

for survival.

I sit in that room and

hear the temple bells and

feel the dawn opening its eyes in a prayer.

When the goings get tough,

and the pathway appears rough;

when the outside gets cold and frosty,

and the world seems menacing and beastly;

when I feel a deathlike pain in my veins

and a dense fog of fever in the clouds and among the rain;

when doubts and dismay like a river and a rivulet flow

and deceit and debauchery crawl and sneak in every furrow;

when the earth’s crust sobs and shakes in failure

and I feel the tremors of a strange ache

in my awareness, for sure;

when dreams and desires get scared

and blood drips from Sun’s wound, bared;

I escape in to that room

filled with white light and

a warmth so sublime;

my room,

my own space

keeps emitting a new found vigor

that tells me that

sometime…. very soon ..

in a moment blessed,

I will be able to begin where forever ended.

Pray I must.

Hope I must.

For nothing is lost yet,

not yet!