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Fruit-Gathering

Chapter 84: LXXXIII
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About This Book

A sequence of short lyric poems meditates on devotion, longing, and the soul's passage from youthful abundance to mature offering. Using natural and seasonal imagery—fruit, flowers, river, wind—the poems describe inner movement toward a beloved or master, the shedding of social honors and possessions, and the readiness to set forth on a spiritual journey. Stylistically spare and intimate, the verses alternate tender longing, parablelike episodes, and exhortations to openness, emphasizing surrender, inward illumination, and the simple act of giving.

LXXXIII

I

I feel that all the stars shine in me. The world breaks into my life like a flood.

The flowers blossom in my body. All the youthfulness of land and water smokes like an incense in my heart; and the breath of all things plays on my thoughts as on a flute.

II

When the world sleeps I come to your door.

The stars are silent, and I am afraid to sing.

I wait and watch, till your shadow passes by the balcony of night and I return with a full heart.

Then in the morning I sing by the roadside;

The flowers in the hedge give me answer and the morning air listens,

The travellers suddenly stop and look in my face, thinking I have called them by their names.

III

Keep me at your door ever attending to your wishes, and let me go about in your Kingdom accepting your call.

Let me not sink and disappear in the depth of languor.

Let not my life be worn out to tatters by penury of waste.

Let not those doubts encompass me,—the dust of distractions.

Let me not pursue many paths to gather many things.

Let me not bend my heart to the yoke of the many.

Let me hold my head high in the courage and pride of being your servant.