A quest

Open plains of my imaginings'
or is it a racial memory?
visions of the age of before
a grey tunnel, life time of cycles
in a  world of swirling cosmic dust
there I seek you my soul-mate
Gone but not forgotten
to another world, another time
where dreams may come
and promises, old, be honoured
by lips on lips, whispers of the ancient
in old vines of conception

How did I miss you, my love
In this cycle of existence
when before I held your hands
and pledged this very life and existence
how did the parting happen, indeed
for memories deep are ever
present, pages of them, no, stacks
of books on the walls of time
too many existence in one soul
Was it the lance of Ashoka's men
A sword from Atilla's army
Or a field in Maryland?

Oh yes and the parting, pain
exquisite, accused of a witch
I feel the drowning still
The angry hurt humiliation
Of being flogged by the switch
To be stoned and killed
o so painfully, so slowly
Dragged along a gravelly street
My many doors to death
while I quest for you
A wily spirit on the move
Smiling from the mind's eaves

I forget, o yes, I forget
the faces of the mothers
the fathers nor even my siblings
Only you I remember well
Smiling eyes, laughter,
the wedding chants
the pootu on my fore head
the bangles on my wrists
The clanging of church bells
the horse drawn cart...
you and I,  laughing
joined by the falling snow

The wedding, the wedding
The beautiful wedding
The cotton in the fields
Your handsome wine-coloured
face, looking at me
Full of love, of need
We want to be free
But not from love's slavery
Under the tree I said I do
and you kissed me
I held you so hard
that you laughed in glee

I live for the delight
of your existence my Love
My friend, my beloved soul-mate
On this threshold of creation
A special birth I await
To be born at a time of death
to awake from sweet oblivion,
Swift prayers, accompany your return
Offer me peace and linger, my beloved
Grant me your love again
Hold these hands, mine for now
For the circle's cycle never ends

On this, the terrain of my mind
I sit and wait, eyes  black, grey to blue
Words in babbles, unconcerned
Medium of communications
uncared for, why should I
when love is lost in the circle of time
where Jamuna flows in between
Or maybe Styx, who knows
Need I scream at the Valkyrie
Who carried you away to the darkers halls
of Valhalla
Or should I mourn against Hades?

I care not, my love
I spit at the spirits
that take you away before
I can touch and hold you
I rant against the gods
who suffer the children
to come unto them and then laugh
with derision at human pain
I stand here alone
and wait your return
a thousand births
a thousand deaths
I wait