I Still do Crave

Long have I trekked through Time’s alleys;
My raft I’ve rowed over billowy vales;
Long have I suffered with beggars and kings;
But, never could I know to whom I belong!

A runaway prodigal son have I been,
Drinking deep the fountain of fire;
I met Thine eyes, so mellow with Love;
I heard the Voice of ambrosial lyre.

Thy robe’s cool and feathery brush
Soothed the burning wounds I had;
A touch of Thy Feet opened the gate
Of Joy, unconfined by Time and Space.

Thirsty for ages and ages on end,
At last I’ve come to the Nectar Spring;
But weak and worn, I still do crave­—
Gather Me in Thy arms, O Lord!

 —Bijaya Kumar Mishra; Cuttack
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, Nov. 1974