Hanuman,

 

Son of the wind,

 

Forest-eyed,

 

Sent to free

 

Entangled innocence from rusted snares,

 

From the bitter clawhold of Ravana,

 

To guide the gold-winged butterfly,

 

The shy, dawn-eyed doe,

 

The nagalinga tree

 

Of skylit flower,

 

The brave host of bears

 

On the oak-hallowed hill,

 

The bright-songed messengers, in flight,

 

The belled, meandering cow,

 

The redwoods of ancient girth,

 

The moon-

 

Finned

 

Minnows

 

Of silver gill,

 

Out from the chasms of desolation

 

Of a world gone awry

 

Back to the far, far

 

Reaches of the beginning – before ever time arose

 

Back to the shining lake of the mountain height

 

Hidden unseen in the green land of the star

 

Where mists of joy run

 

Like horses on the white river, wide,

 

Where the spring cactus unfolds gold and red.

 

A day to bring the innocent out, away

 

In the boat of the canted bow

 

That fled

 

Across the storm-bent sea

 

In the gale-churned hour.

 

Do you remember your flaming brand

 

And the fire that went up to swallow

 

The iron-souled city of Lanka?

 

Hanuman,

 

Savior of the innocent, hero-son

 

Of earth and star,

 

There  –  hear the call of the raven chime

 

From the canyon of  ill-kept time.

 

Soon

 

Hanuman,

 

Son of the wind,

 

Breath of the earth.

 

Written April 3, 2012

 

Photo: © Sekernas | Dreamstime.com / Langur monkey