I can't understand
their mystic heaven or thrills
housed in awareness
time's intricacies
or sources of plastic mist
through mythical depths
the wings of my thought
are too short to climb God's height
or blue deeps of peace
I stand on the edge
of earth's physicality
waiting on the brink
with shadowy lines
and curves to image march of
eyeless Jagannath
if nobody sees
the collapse of procession
and dark precinct
don't blame the poets:
there is too much emptiness
and gloom to ignore
R.K. Singh
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/eyeless-jagannath/
