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Mahabhinishkraman

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A fly beneath a glass fluttering around
Hitting its head against invisible walls
Withering with strikes it knew not the cause of.
Like his soul trapped in the humanly walls.
In endless misery, through the round passage of stars,
Innumerable phases of life, ebbs and passion,
He had with closed eyes pictured the Holy Man,
Who, with nothing to hold on to, nothing dear,
Sat within no glass walls to waste his heart on.
He could but not hide from the palace walls
Of brick and mortar and gold and lush greens
Replete with the safety of the Gods and the Heavens
And men who would deal beasts at his pleasure and pain
And the sombre content from wife and son,
As the great heir to the gentle earths of the Sakas.

Suddhodhana and his men vigil at the corners
Intent at turning the future’s course
Jostling to the tinkling of their ornate shackles.
Siddharth, the Saka-simha, envying the undefeated
Lightness of the Brahman on the road.

That night of decision, of celebration and sorrow
Nymphs from strange worlds turned on their feet
Thumped their toes and ghunghroos on the soft soil
Deafened the world out of its vigils and senses.
The chariot of exotic stones and garlands waited
Pulled by Kanthak, driven by Channa 
With eyes of sleep and inquiry of the journey
Of the great King who would never be.

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