If Daffodils Turned Wordsworth Poem by Ganesh Veeraraghavan

If Daffodils Turned Wordsworth



If daffodils turned Wordsworth….

If daffodils turned Wordsworth in-wards
Spiritual thirst took Naren to his innards
They journeyed hard through their lives
Spirit, soul and hearts intense…
What we see is their flag on the summit
They did climb bit by bit!
Treks unseen falls unnoticed
Bruises plenty, copious bloodshed!

Is god just atomic, flashed in the inner?
Is he not cosmic also for the commoner?
Is he one only to the closed eye?
Is he not spread open like the sky?

If god we can only inward see
Why this ship and the well-laid sea?
Where we sail, why the horizon?
Why not just get sunken forgotten?
Why the green of the meadows?
Why grass chewing cows?
Why not this earth cave in?
All of us suckin siinkin…

My horses ready for their courses
The chariot wheeled to life-axles
Horses meant to run forward
Common's senses for journeys outward!

No inward journey with alleys darkened
Heart frigid, mind threatened
Has my god abandoned?
Left me desolate, blinded

Is god always the cruel stalker?
Hides ever in heart's bower..

My god comes as the morning sun
Evening he turns as cooling moon
The birds chirping, he is the melody
The river flows, he nourishes the city
The mountains stare, he is their majesty
Ship sails, vast is ther sea

But the sun does not speak wisdom
The moon rules just small kingdom
The birds chirp only when happy
Rivers after seasons rainy
Is god dead for some seasons
Is there god? my mind questions

But if we let our heart take over
And coax our mind to it's quiver
Soon it hangs like the clouds thickening
Drenching us in heavy down-pouring

God is not just the sun but he who stares
He who sees whence brightness glares
He who sees why the sun rises punctual
He who sees who makes him habitual

Who makes the city grow along the river?
Who causes thirst of the avid drinker?
Why the river is worshipped as a goddess lovely?
Who gives water this special personality?
Is god the weaver of all connection?
Is he himself our connecting disposition?
is he the thread, the pearls of life stringing?
is he also the reason, the pearls shining?

If the birds are sad, they rest silent
God then becomes the loving parent
If rains fail and dry up the rivers
God rests as fervour in the prayers
God is not seasonal
He is hidden, also the obvious real

If we can't savor the food he serves
iI we can't feel the textures he weaves
If we can't spot his smiling face
All the worlds, we can put to waste
Does he pencil without thoughts?
Does he sail without masts?

God does lie in the words and texts
He also lies between as secrets
Secrets revealed to the focused reader
Not to the hurried page turner

And when we train our sights well
Keep our noses for his distinct smell
Ears for everyday sound
We slowly also turn them inward

Can one who does not care for the line?
Can he know the meanings hidden?

All this life stars and planets
Are numbered textbooks in well-aired classes
To coach and train our outward tentacle
we learn to see him, the greatest spectacle!

When every sight he begins to seize
When minds slowly heal and cease
Every sound turns sweet to the ear
His silent words we begin to hear
When it's fragrance even by the overflowing gutter
We know our noses now are tuned inner
The journey always starts outward
Peaks and cliffs, bit by bit
The flags from our pocket out
Soon to be unfurled at the summit
The journey now turns inward
Like it happened to the saint and the bard!

Thursday, February 5, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: god
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success