POESY: ON WAKING UP

ON WAKING UP

Blessed be the morn

On which I was born.

Now attributes shorn,

In life wearyworn,

I, forlorn,

Am blowing the horn

To rid myself

Off this horrific world

That's stuck in me

Like a pricking thorn.

Life's been lived full force.

Now worn and torn,

Here at last its brief sojourn 

Shall end in scorn

If I tarry more.

For the world is full,

Too full of cares,

Too full of the wares

That crass commerce,

Too full of the snares

That the desirous mind

Have corrupted course.

Now off in flight

To a realm of light,

Leaving the plight,

This battle thrown.

The shore is nigh,

The tide is high,

The vessel's ready,

My spirit's steady.

Set off at eve,

This earth shall leave

When dusk beckons

The darkening dawn.

How many aeons 

This life has been,

How many ages 

Its scenery seen.

Now curtain's call,

Short shrinks the tall,

Breaks steps the ball,

Null sees the all.

I come, O Master, I come.

O Mother who art my sole refuge,

In Thee shall rest my days and nights.

A day of peace

And a night of rest,

Free of care

Nor worry pressed.

Life's been long

And hard and tough,

Rode through the smooth 

And rode through the rough.

Now peace, peace, peace within, 

Light and bliss and formfree win.

Rambling, rambling, carefree soul,

The parts are nought, 

They've fused as Whole.

Composed by Sugata Bose