Home > Poetry > No escape?

No escape?

Blind and weathered, the old man sat
composing hymns, not caring for a mat
Feel he did, his lord’s presence near
listening to his song with a tear

Tried he did, to behold truth by his hands
waving his arms like wind across lands
Better he would have done, to catch smoke from a fire
for the lord disappeared every time he went near

Distraught and desperate, his time came
one last time, he tried the game
“My sweet Lord, run away from me you can
but you cannot escape from the heart of this man!”

* This is inspired by the story of the saint Bilvamangala *

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Categories: Poetry
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