DIVINE LULLABY

DIVINE LULLABY

He lies on a blood stained pillow,
She sits besides him and croons.
He cannot, but listen to her,
She is the goddess of the moon.

He stares at her with tortured eyes,
She continues with her tune.
The pillow moves beneath his head,
He sees the shattered ruin.

He tries to move away from her,
She smiles and holds him down.
Antediluvian hymns that she hums,
He hears the words resound.

Around the bloody room he hears,
The pounding of his heart.
She gently caresses him,
Again the singing starts.

She sings of stars and of the sky,
Splendours of sun and moon.
His blood starts to boil, then freeze,
Her voice swirls round the room.

He sees the vista, she sings so clear,
The truth of seven worlds.
Although his eyes are shut and sealed,
He sees the truth unfurled.

He sweats and shakes with sleeping fear,
She smoothes his fevered head,
Guarding him her hapless prey,
Brings memory back from dead.

He walks with living corpses,
Of thoughts in oblivion lost,
Her chanting rings in the air,
Remembering what he forgot.

He looks at passing illusions,
Those he thought were fact,
She knows the ways of Maya,
The total cosmic act.

Dawn breaks through the window,
The moon wanes to depart,
The goddess ascends her lofty height,
He awakens with a start.

He sees the sunlight streaming in,
As if from primeval time,
Sees the truth filtering through,
The ones that she defined.

The goddess has many ways,
To show the hidden soul,
Sometimes with eyes completely shut,
Reality becomes whole.

Sujata

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