Augur Wings
Sapteshwara in the serene night awoke
And spoke to Swapnā, spoke of all those things
Promising which, in darkness, give splendour
To the stars, and to galaxies the speed
To reach distances of the far unknown,
Hid, curving in deep space. In the same way,
Interminable it is in time too.
Was that the great wealth dearer than Prajnā,
Of friendship truer than fondness, self-born
Like Prajnā, of a well brought-up servant
In work faithful to Prajnā? Did it come
From life, or from the impossible fire
Burning on a crest? But does it hold trust
Of joy, beget children as does the moon
Newer constellations in the mansion
Of Amritā? But, then, she was feeling
Rather sleepy, and already Swapnā
Had retired, and Śabdā preferred to take
Leave in that trepidant silence. Nothing
Stirred and, like a pessimist who would find
Never a fish in the pond, desolate
Ages slipped by. Sapteshwara was indeed
Stunned but in half a moment decided
To do austerities, and to Priyā
Told so. A sudden flock of augur birds
Flew over his head, lost in thought; tranquil wings
Beat through blueness of the wind. In a calm
For long years, stayed and looked into the germ
Of death. Nothing came from the Twelve, Diśā
Had no clue, nor the elements, nor hell,
And the soul of the earth suffered. Anguished,
Into the self of zero he entered
To explore its puzzling contents, the cause.
Sapteshwara saw behind dazzling Chhāyā
Shiva only, commanding all movements.
RY Deshpande
5 July 2004