The Dwelling Place of God

I feel the early chill drift down

On silent water, morning mist

Like frost upon the autumn vines

Lifts as day begins its rounds.

The sun spills jets of orange fire

And sets ablaze the tranquil lake

Signalling the time to leave

And fly to my ancestral home

On a journey without end.

Soon fifty years will pass since I

Intrepid traveller alone

Dared to leave familiar shores

And sail across forbidding seas.

And though I did not stay for long,

For restlessness and youth's desire

Could not still the heart to hold

An Ashram's force and sanctity.

When I returned I would explore

A multitude of avenues,

Serve in my small ways her work

And face within the dark below

Where all our sordid nature lies,

Press on through all, the light to find

And offer the love that is my soul.

She is the reason we are here.

Though earth seems but a whirling dot

In the calm of her infinity

It is the dwelling-place of God.