Images of Transformation

A poem by Hari Prasad Shastri


O moon of delight! I was a weary wind
Blowing over an equatorial desert,
Charged with consuming heat and blinding sand.
You opened to me your garden, full of violets,
Jasmine, syringa and cherry blossom.
I wafted over the field of your heart and was relieved
By the spray from the silver fountain of your garden.
O Love, I was an uncouth marble rock;
Your loving hands have chiselled me into a form of beauty;
Your breath has animated me with the wisdom of devotion.
I was a reed, growing in a muddy pool;
You have transformed me into your flute,
And now soul-ravishing melodies, inspired by the touch of your lips,
Flow from me to delight the poor and the disconsolate on this earth
And also the angels in heaven.

This article is from the Summer 2022 issue of Self-Knowledge Journal.