The Falcon of Fire entered the bridal night,

A thunder of wings mastering her helpless ‘No’.

Her breast quivered with a call of lover-flames

And the sobs became the sun-beads of her necklace

And honey-joy flowed from the moon-jars of her heart.

Her sleep turned into a chant of dreaming stars.

The God of Wisdom possessed all her sweetnesses,

The unbearable might ravished her charms.

A power of lightning transformed her self,

A golden influx flooded her being,

A figure of beauty looked out from her eyes.

She was at once the mother and the child

And folded in her arms the tenderness to be,

And grew in vasts of the incarnate force.

Like the sword and crown of an empress glory

She alone could bear that Will of the High.

RY Deshpande

1 February 1985