Songs of Praise

Oct. 30, 2010

I watch the swallows skim the silent lake

The welcome call of all the earth drifts by

My soul sees all and I from silence take

The song of OM, my chant of destiny.

Silver notes upon the wafting breeze

And golden tones plucked on golden strings

The music in the roots of towering trees

These strains of hope that every sunrise brings.

Far now from me the frigid winter nights

And crystal patternings of ice on glass

The snow descending on the dim street lights,

My crackling steps upon the frozen grass.

No more to hear the snow-clad branches break

Or sledding down with dangerous glee the hill

For in the heat of India I wake

And of her fragrances I take my fill.

I walk again the country of my soul

Seek not in the easy life to spend my days

Nor count the years that must exact their toll

But joyously to sing my songs of praise.