Brahman

I doth bring forth the fruit of life

The chirrup of the bulbul

The scorch of my flame doth burn and nurture

I pass through the expanses

And the sapling doth blithely sway for my rapture

From the slant I move the light to the o’erhead

In the tall shadows

I see the agitation of the day

In the slant dusk, I see my creation coming to rest

Every birth I mark with another death

A leisurely stoke of my whim

And my creation turns to dust

I banish the light to the gallows

Only to be freed early in the morrow

Laying with the end on the horizon

I flit through Time

Cradling the fledgling in my arms

And crushing the dry leaf ‘tween my palms

Indolence seduces me

I let my creation be

In the unidentifiable hollows of my desires

Lay the three sisters of faith

I turn in my sleep

Beings fear me

And yet know me not

I bring them death and bring them birth I do

From the depths of their bosoms

Doth fear of my next move reside

Like the cloud, there is no end

Through destruction I bring forth more birth

I turn

Fatigue over takes

Will I start it again?

For now, the question remains unanswered

Hung between the spectral and the temporal

My thoughts wander

I fall into a deep slumber

*

Only to awake again

Brahman rests.