A Message from Morning Star

I saw the smiling morning star

Above the silhouetted trees;

Sending its cool rays silently

Upon the earth’s fields and leas;

And into my inquiring eyes.

To my bed I went with questions

Without answers did I wake;

Dawn to dusk, night to morning

The grounds of my mind I rake;

No replies come to my whys!

I hear a distant voice from afar

Floating to me on the rays near;

Let your being relax and rest

In God’s kind hands without fear;

In His bosom lie your soul’s cries.

Some days I’m called Morning Star

To Evening Star some days I’ll turn;

I am a vagabond planet, not a star

        To face the fireball, to singe and burn;

        My meaning in creation that flies!

          

        Xavier Bage

        Wed, 29 November 29, 2017

Holy Season Advent is Dawned

 

The faint light in the east horizon

Tells a new day is being born;

The night has been dark and cold

But happy tidings come with morn.

Fog fills the somnolent pastures

And the wind may be sharp and wild;

The fading leaves fall to the earth

But they also herald a Savior Child.

 November is waving a good bye

While December is nigh to begin;

The holy season Advent is dawned

To dispel our earthly sorrow and sin.

Hear the birds and the angels sing

For the creator has given them voice;

Can we hide in silence to mourn

When we’re blest with better choice?

The darkness may win some battles

But it can never ever win the war;

For good God is always victorious

And the whole universe is His by far!

Xavier Bage

Tuesday, 28 November 2017

The Unemployed Dog and Me

We meet at the roadside

Outside the school gate.  I find her

Snuffling, smelling, shuffling up and down,

Searching for crumbs

From the school children’s tiffin snacks

And sometimes, just relaxing curled

In Vodafone O position!

I lift my right feet

She places her paw on it

We forget the mad vehicles zooming beside

As we spend some minutes together

Speaking to each other, in a language

Only we two understand

About our life’s pains and crumbs it gives!

She has no house to call her own

No master or mistress, to call her by name

To hug and cuddle her.

She sleeps in the corner

Under the shed, outside the sand shop

After eating leftovers thrown away

By the truck drivers and their handymen!

I have never given her any food

Not even two biscuits from the Charity’s bakery

Yet we’ve found friendship in each other

As we are similar in many respects

The unemployed dog and me

We’ve perceived reflections of each other

Within us; and hugged as friends!

Xavier Bage

Mon, 27 Novmber 2017

I Will Not Open My Windows

“In the forest of my sacred land

There will be only one kind of tree

The Ficus Religiosa, my favorite tree

Won’t it be nice and tidy?

To have only one kind of tree

All lined and planted at equal distance

Like our soldiers ready for a parade!

All other trees of other species

I will cut down;
their saplings I will uproot!

I’ll keep only one kind of flower

In my flower garden,

The only flower I like to see blooming

Flowers of other species I’ll not tolerate

Even if they sprout naturally in the soil!

Won’t it be thrilling to my eyes to see

My desired kind of flower in my land?

I’ll arrange the flower beds, as I wish

And the pools in my garden, as I want.

I hate varieties and diversities!

I hear people say, “Variety is the flavor of life.”

Pure humbug and falsehood!

Only one kind of food all my life.

I will dress  myself in only one kind of linen

I’ll keep in my mind
only my kind of thoughts

No, I’ll not open my windows.

Winds will bring different thoughts

Than what I hold close to my chest.

Winds blowing in from other climates
My nose abhors them
They stink like rotten garbage

No, don’t tell me to open my windows.

I will not, for all the black money

Returned to the treasury!

Xavier Bage

Fri, 24 November 2017

The Mouse and the Elephant

 

The royal elephant laughs at the mouse

And all in the august assembly join him

After all, the large one is the bright sun

The small one is only a lamp so dim!

The weighty has a thundering trumpet

And the lightweight has a tiny sqweak

What harm can it do to the musclemight

A timid creature so tender and weak!

A foot stamp is enough and much more

To squash to paste the roly-poly piece

The giant can only feel pity on the rodent

How far can the twig-legged fluff reach?

The haughty and mighty don’t understand

The power  on the weak the Giver endows

This hidden truth is laid bare only to the wise

Who to the Creator in humble heart bows!

The mouse has challenged the mighty one

In the very forest that the bulky butt wields

Oh my! Have you seen such heavy scamper?

See it in the arena of the people’s fields!

Xavier Bage

Wed, Nov 22, 2017