Darshan Day - White Memories

We walked in wonder there amongst the flowers,

Passing white-clad devotees whose eyes

Upon some inner world were fiercely set,

Inhaled the incense rising towards the skies

And by his tomb forgot the passing hours.

White-washed walls whose still solemnity

Broken by cascading boughs in bloom

The caw of crows, the workers sweeping leaves,-

Yet all was stillness in the inner room

As Grace descended through the Service Tree.

We have memories more magical than breath

Or the rhythm of the slow heart's pulsing beat,

We who lived in a laboratory of soul

And climbed the soft white stairs with pilgrim feet

To kneel before Her whose love would conquer death.