Swami Vivekananda, -The Incarnation Of Lord Shiva Poem by Subrata Ray

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His Highness needs a room to seat,
Feels the Sun, and wishes to remake its fortune,
Seven of its sense accessory with its own white,
To be an eight petaled lotus it turns.

With beauty -non attached and truth unimagined,
Budded, blossomed and bloomed the Sun,
For a touch of Shiva -Swami, it cried for fun,
Like an ardent devotee with bedewed calmness it turns.

Neptune with its sea horses, had a prayer for rest and respite,
For Time didn't grace it, its tireless strivings burdens the fight.
A dip, a bath, of Yogi-Swami, was cherished to be the coveted bliss,
With tears -oozing -eyes, it cries, and cries, if Swami does please.

The Kaylasha with its snowy-calmness, breathes anguish,
It feels its stay, time -passing agony, in its earthly lease,
Shiva -Swami, -is the source of its suffering's release .