Madhabkund_Water_Fall

By Sharon St Joan

 

Now fire licks

 

At the fainting feet

 

Of the demon-thieves,

 

While on the far hill

 

In the rain

 

Of spring, the rough-barked cedars

 

Stretch out their laughing leaves.

 

Hanuman, now is the time to lay waste

 

The cities of pain

 

Born on the plains of deception.

 

Fly through the night

 

With your tail that flicks

 

Cinders, sparks of the setting sun.

 

Dry up the dark

 

Path of the cracked, lamenting bones.

 

Burn up the pits of Ravana, smoldering long

 

Where the wan-faced, wailing meet

 

To cower and hide.

 

Hanuman, hasten at dawn, ride

 

On the clear ringing winds

 

Of Vayu, that free the cliffs and sands

 

From dust and choking must,

 

That impel the bright-winged forests

 

To flower

 

Again in the morning mists,

 

While only the pure song

 

Of the meadowlark

 

Sings to the musical waters

 

That spill

 

Down the granite stones

 

In the rainbowed ark

 

Of light.

 

Photo: Rashed-Al-Qayum / © the raqs / Wikimedia Commons / This work has been released into the public domain by its author, Rashed-Al-Qayum at English Wikipedia. This applies worldwide. / Madhabkunda Water-Fall, Maulvibazar, Bangladesh.

 

Written March 11, 2016.

 

© 2016, Sharon St Joan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March 11, 2016