Poems of Narad

Music of the Prayerful Heart

May 15, 2005

A thousand lyrics wait upon the song
That lies unsung upon the lips of man,
Melodies of soul for which we long
And poetry unheard since time began.
An impress of divinity we feel
And sometimes glimpse in rare refracted light;
A splendour on our smallness seems to steal
And lift the opaque curtain of the night,
The ignorance that holds our hearts in thrall,
The greed that grows beyond all self-control
The frantic pace that blinds us to the call
And sorrow that exerts its painful toll,
All joy of life subservient to need,
A monotony in which all higher thought
Accedes to base necessities of greed
Where pleasure a commodity is bought
And sold to fill the vital nature's lust.
A radiance from once known aeons gleams,
To that we must consign our hope and trust
Our aspiration and our deepest dreams.