Yagna of Horses

In us are moored a hundred horses
Unbridled and wild, charting their own courses.

The din and clamour rough and wild
In there is all discipline of an unruly child.

Lone and solitary sits a flaming self,
Watching the antics of a drunken elf.

A luminous memory and faith remember,
The wafting power and light through every member.

In this void and nether shore
I muse and seek the occult door.

My Yagna of Horses is yet to be,
Awaiting the Master’s nod and His eternity.

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