I have a small room within myself
plush and posh
disposed with all the amenities
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 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,