Come Thou*

You the primordial form
Of Love,
If Thou be , the perfect one,
As praised and so
Eulogised by thousands
Of poets, painters, artists,
If Thou be that form of Art,
Which rises out of Aphros,
Like a bubble,
O You the daughter of God,
If Thou be so blessed
By Urania,
Or If Dione came to thy figure,
You the Sylphic drop
In the Ocean,
If Thou be that Queen of all hearts,

Come Thou
Onto me
And million others,
Who like me,
Mere mortals
Never for the attainment
Come Thou
The Diva of BEAUTY
In Innocence wrapped,
Rising , as if waking,
And forbading us,
Not to be mixed and mingled
With utterances unjust, unholy,
Violence where silence of Thy serene bless
Never stayed for a single moment,

Come Thou,
You the Holy Wave,
The Gale of the Sea,
The Origin of all,

Now that the world
Is so much bereft of Thy presence,
Come onto me,
Out of canvas,
As if waking
And forbading
With a finger on thy chin,
So enigmatically placed,
As once seen
By an artist ,

Come Thou
Onto me,
And thousand others,
Who know true,
Thy worth,
Thy form eternal,
Thy immortality. (*Note: upon a painting loosely based as attached;
#aphros : the sea foam and surf, Illumined , phosphorus like
#Aphrodite : GODDESS of LOVE
Daughter of Zeus and Urania/Dione, sibling of Artemis, Ares, Athena, Apollo, )



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