Poems of Narad

A Greater Music

March 23, 2001

A far and haunting melody
Like something caught at the edge of dream,
A song of human destiny
Came flowing in a golden stream.

Before it all our music pales,
Our harmonies seem a monotone,
Our complex erudition fails
And art an imitation grown

And weak attempt to catch the strain
Of a music from our higher spheres
That falls to earth as a subtle rain,
Fades and suddenly reappears.

A tremolo on a silver string
Draws the soul from its secrecy,
A chant the astral choirs sing,
A conch that blows on Triton's sea,

Call the heart to deeper ways
Its chords vibrating in sympathy,
And last a flute the Blue One plays
Attunes us to His ecstasy.

For man shall overleap his day
A greater music will compose
On the score of life must overlay
The song of truth that in us grows

(First published in Mother India - August 2001)