Samapti Prarthana

These last ten days I have attempted the laughable—
to describe the indescribable
to portray the form of the formless
to use words for that which is beyond words
and to draw that unimaginable abstraction.

Mother, it is not that I have not the skills to do better;
I have not the knowledge of how to use the skills.
That is one excuse.
Verily though, this was always an ill-fated exercise.

Whatever I see,
some part of you is still hidden from me.
Whatever I feel,
is only a subset of your myriad dimensions.
Whatever I write
is like spelling a million-letter word from a scrabble tray.
Whatever I experience,
a part of you remains remote from me.

Mother, my task was beyond me.

Someday, I will realize you in me fully
and there will be no need for words between us.

Until then, as the old verse goes,
whatever I am or do,
by body, by speech,
by feeling, by sense,
by mind, by nature,
I offer it all to you—
with all its flaws and all its promise.

Please dwell on my love and intentions,
overlook my inadequacies
and walk me past my weaknesses, holding my hand.

Vijayadashami 2004

navaratri 2004

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