I asked the Supreme if this task has an end…: A poem 

I asked the Supreme, if this task, 

as long as the axis of the universe, 

has an end? And he said to me: 

Spread your arms to the night 

and feel the heat of the tiniest speck 

within you – the point of no return 

and backward in its spin and trance 

into simultaneous birth and death 

and lives of infancy, learning and knowing 

like quantum moments in a swirling wind 

of multitudes of cinematic wonder and euphoria 

With the knowledge of Him, seen and unseen 

in bursts and rests; as if a crescendo playing  

was devoid of motion; static but potent 

And everything and everyone dear, was just 

an embrace wafting in a profound endless moment 

How to describe a vision of an expanse, 

so vast and yet a mere arms span 

And I was loathe to fall back  

into the material, where clouds of gas 

become fire, solid and molten 

in a seemingly fearful state of pain 

The anxiety of the brittleness of self 

overwhelmed by pangs of pining; a package 

of countless questions ringing in a void 

of illusions that can be felt as too corporeal. 

But I heard the faint breath of the Supreme, 

before it was lost to me, in the fading dimension: 

That after the passage of the prolonged fight in the night 

is the sign of His glory and ecstasy