Poor lady from the East

Little infant-
flung from the haunts of sin ,
into the blackness without…

Angel wings bear thee up-
and waft thee , softly .. gently
onto hard , stony ground…

Soft zephyrs of the night -
weave warm swaddling bands
about thy shivering infant frame…

The chill hands of death,
stealing over thy tiny fluttering heart ,
freeze ...spell bound -
quailing
before thy gurgling innocence…

Bereft of her cubs,
the grieving she-wolf –
drawn by a Power beyond her ken,
tiptoes up,
to give thee suck…

The first rays of Dawn
light up the skies.
The rag-picker,
swinging along that lonely trail
whistling a merry tune ,
stumbles on thee
cooing in the dust –
that pearl beyond all price .


Memories … fast withering,
like succulence
unplucked on the vine-

Of thee , the Eternal Temptress
darting smouldering glances
through kohl –ringed eyes -
a single slender garland ,
draping thy dark , lissome beauty.

Writhing and weaving
through the ageless rhythms ,
beneath the altar
to the leering Monkey God-

Thy being ,gripped by
the Spirits of the Snake,
flutters over manhoods ,
now rampant-
raving … raging ,
for that blessed release…

Alas ...but all too soon -
smoky incense –laden airs,
billowing from a thousand braziers,
cast their pall over the scene ….

Then – as Time stands hushed ,
the Light Eternal shines-
blazing through the Dark .

And the Spirit of the One True Cross
floods through thy being..


The long years –
years of trial ... of tribulation...
wreak their terrible toll.

Yet , the spirit - unbowed ,
wills the shell-
frail .. withered ...bent double with age
up the steep , carcass-strewn slope
on to the Shining Peak.

The soul ,
still lit by that first bloom of Youth -
thrills to the beauty and wonder
of those upland vistas - fast unfolding.

Gruesome memories ,
that once seared the spirit-
of wallowing in cesspools ,to eke a living..
foraging in garbage heaps , for scant morsels -to stay alive ..
of whips that flailed through to the flesh….
of cudgels that broke through to the bone -
fall away ,
as worn hide - moulting off the reptile back.

Heart ringing
to the music of Heavenly Choirs-
you take that very last step …
into the Beyond...

..The stars fall softly.. ..tenderly
onto brutal , arid ground –
and the hundred flowers bloom...

....All you craved were
a few mouldy crusts-
Yet He bequeathed you
the flowers ..and those stars...