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At the Feet of The Mother

Tempest’s Shout and Water’s Fall

Then all was a swift stride, a sibilant race,
Or all was tempest’s shout and water’s fall.

A dimness sagged on the grey floor of day,
Its dingy sprawling length joined morn to eve,
Wallowing in sludge and shower it reached black dark.

Day a half darkness wore as its dull dress.

Light looked into dawn’s tarnished glass and met
Its own face there, twin to a half-lit night’s:
Downpour and drip and seeping mist swayed all
And turned dry soil to bog and reeking mud:
Earth was a quagmire, heaven a dismal block.

[Savitri: Book Four Canto One]

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