Ode To Tagore

If Thou hath not been here,
O The God of Thy Writes,
If Thou hath not us brought
Thy immense treasure, never ending,
Songs, scribbles, inked botches,
Thy plays, playlets, charades,
Thy poems, thy essays, thy Vast,

Sometimes wonder,i,
Where We had been
How i have survived,
With so much of horrendous things
Happening, non poetic,
Electrocuted nights,
Bloody swords red upto hilts,
Wrongs worn over our small chests
With so much of boast and false pride,

Where would i myself hide,

O Thou, the Greatest of All Bards,
By measure, by length, by breadth
How in You, oft i just breathe,

Liberating me, to the skies and the seas,
By Thou, thy works, thy wonders, thy Poetry,

Hath not You left for us, such eternal life,
Where i have bowed, where have i dyed, Immortal Life, Thou , the God of all writes,
Philos, Eros, Agape, all rolled into You,
Like drops of dews, on leaves Thine,
Forever , like nascent dreams, on shine,

Hath not Thou left, such an indelible ink,
Upon me, O The Lord, Where would have I,
After being filled with Thy love to the brink,
Overflowed, drowned, drenched, bowed.


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