The Numinous Poem by Bhanu Padmo

Time ticks and sings my soul-bird
A song intriguing and recurring,
Tingling in heart*s abyss,
Igniting the darkness,
cold and ancient.

Time ticks and my soul-bird sings on.

Intrigued, I turned inward,
Awed and willed,
Towards the incandescent darkness.
Unlikely corner that is, they said,
For the numinous to be.

Inward I moved on,
Awed and willed;
And my soul-bird sang on
The song intriguing and recurring;
Obliging no more rumors and creeds,
Sweet and persuasive;
Begotten of inertia of conceit
And of sapience.

I succumbed to that heart-light,
Beatific and promising;
Like dream-seed it was,
Preserved in abysmal depths
Of a lonely heart.
Unlikely corner it is, they said,
For the numinous to be.

And I believed them no longer.

Look upwards, cried the creeds:
That*s divinity active,
Of transparent complexion,
Of texture without design;
Sole existence it has sought,
Devoid of earth-smell,
Abhorring existence organic.

And I believed them no longer.

Look upwards, cried the creeds,
That*s the star;
Look beyond your eyes to see;
Remember always, you are the organ,
Earthen and sullying;
You are the bed,
Sticky and binding.

And I believed them no longer.

And then for a moment, time stopped ticking;
Stopped singing my soul-bird.

For once, I thought of the contrary:
What if sky were the image-machine,
Made out of a deceptive ether! !

And I slid into shade,
Under a ceiling.

The star occluded, l looked
Unto the occult abyssal;
And still ablaze was the darkness,
Deepest and ancient most,
With dream.

I beheld from under the ceiling,
The star still occluded;
I beheld the numinous,
Organic and original.

And time began to tick again;
And began to sing my soul-bird
The song eternal,
The song secular;
Recurring but intriguing no more.