On Father's Day from My Daughter

“Happy Fathers’ Day!”

My child wished me

As she awoke and rose

This Sunday morn cheery

And filled my heart’s sky

With rays so heavenly!

The smile she offered

Was the freshest flower

Her prayers for me

Were a joyous shower

Her evening words cool

Brought a blessed hour!

Though a pauper I am

My treasury isn’t blank

At the end of the day

The good God I thank

For life-filling blessings

That raise up my rank!               

Xavier Bage

Sun, June 19, 2016                

 

In Human Hearts Made Its Seat

The angel hovered over

God’s Garden of Eden

Glanced intently at the trees

Blooms, birds and children

And whispered in tears

Why this piteous condition?

Why do the trees wither?

Why do the flowers fall?

Why do the fruits shrink?

Why do birds in pain call?

Whence do the fumes blow?

Whence flows the ghastly gall?

He summons the garden guard

Of him does he so inquire

What ails the garden of Love?

Where burns the fuming fire?

Had death entered the garden?

Left behind the marring mire?

Once the parents were deceived

By the snake’s voice sweet        

Cheated into the fall from grace

Seas of sorrows to meet

It still slithers in and out

In human hearts makes its seat!           

                                               

Xavier Bage

Sun, June 19, 2016

Egos

Careful man,

There are egos all around

Look out ahead, behind and aside

It’s a slippery ground

Graze not, nor collide!       

Stay as clear

As you can!

Never know

Watch your words

Rein tight your tongue

Flowers may be taken as swords

Someone may get you wrong

And bare their fangs

Their sharp claws show!

Understand

There are ‘royal’ connections

Commoners in ‘aristocratic’ attires

Nobility of assumed adoptions

Distant ancestors, unknown sires

Swollen in illegitimate pride

On you unjustly land!

Watch out little bird

Preying beaks are near

Flying on wings of power

Look for your food with fear

From the sky they glower

A moment’s inattention

And your song won’t be heard!

Xavier Bage

Thurs, June 16, 2016

Bereaved

 

Oh God, Oh Lord

Can such misfortune fall

On someone on the earth

That the poor soul might suffer

The untimely death of all

He held close to his heart?

Can someone live pierced all life

With a dissecting sword?

What consoling gesture

You extend to unbearably bereaved,

To the eyes dried tearless to stone     

To the father torn of his children

Robbed of his beloved, so grieved!?              

Death, you are cruel, it’s known,

But this is cruelty beyond measure!

Is it the cursing sigh

Of some suffering poor?

Is it the karma of past lives

Flooding over unseen

Through  the present’s door?

Is it the plan of the heaven

To crush out the best wine?    

What’s the truth nigh?

(After visiting Shanti Niketan, June 6, 2016)

Xavier Bage

Tues, June 14, 2016

Marathon Children

               All over the city

                I used to see

                Running men

                Running women

                But now I find

                Running children

               Yes, our children

                Rushing on and on!

Only in the morning

They were born to us

In an hour they learnt

To crawl and to wobble

In the second hour, to run

And they’re gone far from us

Our own begotten children

Is it a marathon?

               

                They’re not playing with us             

                Not speaking to us any more

                No more they stand with us

                They have no time to stand

                They’re running a race

                They’re running in schools

                They’re running in colleges

                Is it an open marathon?

                 

                

          They have to be educated

          They have to be trained

          They have to build their career

          They have to earn money plenty

          
        They have to be as wealthy as possible

          They have to make a success

          A success of their life, fast

          Only, to live they’ve forgotten!

                       Our children

                       Our own begotten children

                        Look at us like strangers!

          Xavier Bage

          Sun, June 05, 2016