A climbing ray
builds up.
I see His face –
the cathedral of all my hopes.

 

He gives my silted-self
finer parts.
Courage, faith and vigour.
I return to my possessions – my lost goals.

 

The Tree of Life is no more
a persistent dark bark.
Light is virtual, crown substantial.
I am roused by His blessed glow.

 

1998

                          

Geeta Chhabra