Thee And Me Poem by Sathya Narayana

At the twilights quiet call I walked
towards the shoal; in trance; in haze
possessed by the dim dusks spilled grace
and stood alone like a dumb rock.

When back to my senses, I lied
on the sandy bed; peered inside
the pond to find its rock bottom
and my image in that fluid prism.

Fickle are the waters by waves,
ficklest is the mind fazed by thoughts.
They rouse even to the slightest of stir;
just slaves to all the knaves.

Hey Ram, hey Raam, I called and cussed
demurred, implored, billowed and cursed...
the one in whom I keep my trust...
the one in whom my doubts are worse.

Flustered, I kept pelting pebbles
into the pool; melting the calm.
Between my wish and the impulse
I swayed alike a lamp in the storm.

Im still out there at that sand shoal
waiting to see the waters still
to find its rock bottom and my
image, the true and mystic I.