Spiritual Quest (Crown of Heroic Sonnets)

[ramadevi]

SECOND REVISION

Beloved, it is you for whom I yearn;
a knowledge lost to me when still in youth.
My infant heart had not learned to discern
that it would only burn to know the truth
of your exalted light. I did not spurn
fine comforts churned by greedy tongue and tooth
but took delight in them, so did not earn
an entrance to your spiritual booth.

I had not seen the transience of things,
nor realized the only goal of worth
is found not laced by sudden sorrow's stings
in recipe with fleeting fits of mirth,
but rather soars beyond the realm of kings
and characters that live upon this earth.
But then I'd hearkened to the note that sings
the reason we are given wings of birth.

Awakening unfurled, by active grace,
to prompt a search for this soul's sacred space.

II)

To prompt a search for this soul's sacred space,
my psyche had to undergo a shift,
inviting you, Beloved, as my base.
I set my preconceptions fast adrift
upon the rapid river current's pace;
it carried them away, and caused a rift
in consciousness that soon revealed your face
within my heart--while ego became miffed.

For ego doesn't comprehend the maze
created deftly to dismantle all
resistance to surrendering the haze
of fallacy, and its delusional
assumption we control the inner blaze.
Endeavoring to extradite the ball--
I grew amazed by your ingenious plays
that seed the truth we need to heed the call.

This humble feast of spirit makes me blessed
With urge to soon embark on holy quest.

III)

With urge to soon embark on holy quest
ascending to the peak of spirit's verge,
I journeyed forth with breast full-brim with zest
and faith you'd fill my tanks to fullest surge.
Prepared for tests that might make me oppressed,
I guessed I would eventually emerge
inside the glow of sacred love, possessed
of mind made pure and free by this deep purge.

At first my path was strewn with bits of bliss
and kissed with rapture in your radiance.
I wondered if the hard road had been missed--
or would there be a change in gradients?
I sensed the path might well encounter twists;
made efforts so as not to become tense
with apprehension when I entered mists
of pain. I knew I would gain recompense!

So onward I proceeded, riding high,
surrendering all thoughts of how or why.

IV)

Surrendering all thoughts of how or why,
I trusted you would guide me all the way
through desperation, dark in inky sky,
to transformation's sigh at break of day.
I'd not known you'd allow my mind to fry
in moments of confusion, though I'd pray
for sustenance, but you would let me die
and cry until my tears had dried away.

I sometimes grasped that all the work performed
was orchestrated for my benefit,
including when by slander I was scorned
and blamed for acts that I did not commit.
With noble aspirations I conformed,
though you kept placing heart inside a pit.
I mourned not, as illusions, once adorned,
were smashed by your hard hammer, bit by bit.

Like gold and silver purified by fire,
you placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre.

v)

You placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre
where old wounds burn away and form melts down
so clarity can shine through staid desire
and tranquil smile replaces fretful frown.
Like sculptor wielding chisel without tire,
you chipped until huge burdens had all flown;
then tweaked my consciousness with perfect pliers--
and laughed to see how grateful I had grown.

One day you sent me out into the field
of life to be your humble instrument
and gently visit those who could not yield
despair, intent to help them be content
and trust eternal light shall be revealed.
For loss and sorrow serve as complement
to joy. The soul's complaints are only healed
when we accept that all is heaven sent.

I see, now that you've made my heart so tender,
serenity comes only with surrender.

VI)

Serenity comes only with surrender,
and trust that all is ultimately one.
Duality is merely a pretender,
and God plays on this stage to have some fun.
Illusion is composed of form and gender;
of planets, moon and stars, and blazing sun.
But death compiles us all inside a blender--
when atoms merge, apparent form's undone.

Though sure of this, I sometimes still forget.
And then you're there to pull the veils aside,
remind me not to lose sight nor to let
my focus on pure consciousness to slide
away and hide the truth that's firmly set
(yet can be falsified by stubborn tide
when mind is caught in habit's sticky net,
aligned with sadness, anger, greed or pride.)

If I did not have you, Beloved Master,
this life might have resulted in disaster!

VII)

This life might have resulted in disaster
if mind had wandered from the golden goal.
But you are there, available to plaster
the cracks along this path to super-soul.
I used to think I wanted to go faster
but now I have contentment in my bowl,
in faith that you're a competent forecaster,
so none of us will end up as a troll!

Deep gratitude to you cannot be told
except by tears occasionally wept,
and ever-glowing confidence that's bold
because I work for you, a true Adept.
I trust you to perfect the inner mold
in time, when all mind-corridors are swept
completely clean of karma, black or gold,
so lastly pristine consciousness is kept.

Although your methods can seem rather stern,
Beloved, it is you for whom I yearn.

REVISED:
I)

Beloved, you are whom I always yearn
for; knowledge lost to me when still in youth.
My infant heart had not learned to discern
that it would only burn to know the truth
of your exalted light. I did not spurn
fine comforts churned by greedy tongue and tooth
but took delight in them, so did not earn
an entrance to your spiritual booth.

I had not seen the transience of things,
nor realized the only goal of worth
is found not laced by sudden sorrow's stings
in recipe with fleeting fits of mirth,
but rather soars beyond the realm of kings
and characters that live upon this earth.
But then I'd hearkened to the note that sings
the reason we are given wings of birth.

Awakening unfurled, by active grace,
to prompt a search for this soul's sacred space.

II)

To prompt a search for this soul's sacred space,
my psyche had to undergo a shift,
and invite you, Beloved, as my base.
I set my preconceptions fast adrift
upon the river's rapid current's pace;
it carried them away, and caused a rift
in consciousness that soon revealed your face
inside my heart--while ego became miffed.

For ego doesn't comprehend the maze
created deftly to dismantle all
resistance to surrendering the haze
of fallacy, and its delusional
assumption we control the inner blaze.
Endeavoring to extradite the ball--
I grew amazed by your ingenious plays
that seed the truth we need to heed the call.

This humble feast of spirit makes me blessed
With urge to soon embark on holy quest.


III)

With urge to soon embark on holy quest
ascending to the peak of spirit's verge,
I journeyed forth with breast full-brim with zest
and faith you'd fill my tanks to fullest surge.
Prepared for tests that might make me oppressed,
I guessed I would eventually emerge
inside the glow of sacred love, possessed
of mind made pure and free by this deep purge.

At first my path was strewn with bits of bliss
kissed by rapture in your radiance.
I wondered if the hard road had been missed--
or would there be a change in gradients?
I sensed the path might well encounter twists;
made efforts so as not to become tense
with apprehension when I entered mists
of pain. I knew I would gain recompense!

So onward I proceeded, riding high,
surrendering all thoughts of how or why.

IV)

Surrendering all thoughts of how or why,
I trusted you would guide me all the way
through desperation dark in inky sky,
to transformation's sigh at break of day.
I'd not known you'd allow my mind to fry
in moments of confusion, though I'd pray
for sustenance, but you would let me die
and cry until my tears had dried away.

I sometimes grasped that all the work performed
was orchestrated for my benefit,
including when by slander I was scorned
and blamed for acts that I did not commit.
With noble aspirations I conformed,
though you kept placing heart inside a pit.
I mourned not, as illusions, once adorned,
were smashed by your hard hammer, bit by bit.

Like gold and silver purified by fire,
you placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre.

v)

You placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre
where old wounds burn away and form melts down
so clarity could shine through staid desire
and tranquil smile replaces fretful frown.
Like sculptor wielding chisel without tire,
you chipped until huge burdens had all flown;
then tweaked my consciousness with perfect pliers--
and laughed to see how grateful I had grown.

One day you sent me out into the field
of life to be your humble instrument
and gently visit those who could not yield
despair, intent to help them be content
and trust eternal light shall be revealed.
For loss and sorrow serve as complement
to joy. The soul's complaints are only healed
when we accept that all is heaven sent.

I see, now that you've made my heart so tender,
serenity comes only with surrender.

VI)

Serenity comes only with surrender,
and trust that all is ultimately one.
Duality is merely a pretender,
and God plays on this stage to have some fun.
Illusion is composed of form and gender;
of planets, moon and stars, and blazing sun.
But death compiles us all inside a blender--
when atoms merge, apparent form's undone.

Though sure of this, I sometimes still forget.
And then you're there to pull the veils aside,
remind me not to lose sight nor to let
my focus on pure consciousness to slide
away and hide the truth that's firmly set
(yet can be falsified by stubborn tide
when mind is caught in habit's sticky net,
aligned with sadness, anger, greed or pride.)

If I did not have you, Beloved Master,
this life might have resulted in disaster!

VII)

This life might have resulted in disaster
if mind had wandered from the golden goal.
But you are there, available to plaster
the cracks along this path to super-soul.
I used to think I wanted to go faster
but now I have contentment in my bowl,
in faith that you're a competent forecaster,
so none of us will end up as a troll!

Deep gratitude to you cannot be told
except by tears occasionally wept,
and ever-glowing confidence that's bold
because I work for you, a true Adept.
I trust you to perfect the inner mold
in time, when all mind-corridors are swept
completely clean of karma, black or gold,
so lastly pristine consciousness is kept.

Although your methods can seem rather stern,
Beloved, you are whom I always yearn.


ORIGINAL
I)

Beloved, you are whom I always yearned
for; knowledge lost to me when still in youth.
My infant heart had not learned to discern
that it would only burn to know the truth
of your exalted light. I did not spurn
fine comforts churned by greedy tongue and tooth
but took delight in them, so did not earn
an entrance to your spiritual booth.

I had not seen the transience of things
nor realized the only goal of worth
is found not laced by sudden sorrow's stings
in recipe with fleeting fits of mirth,
but rather soars beyond the realm of kings
and characters that live upon this earth.
But then I'd hearkened to the note that sings
the reason we are given wings of birth.

Awakening unfurled, by active grace,
to prompt a search for this soul's sacred space.

II)

To prompt a search for this soul's sacred space,
my psyche had to undergo a shift,
and invite you, Beloved, as my base.
I set my preconceptions fast adrift
upon the river's rapid current's pace.
It carried them away, and caused a rift
in consciousness that soon revealed your face
inside my heart--while ego became miffed.

For ego doesn't comprehend the maze
created deftly to dismantle all
resistance to surrendering the haze
of fallacy, and its delusional
assumption we control the inner blaze.
Endeavoring to extradite the ball--
I grew amazed by your ingenious plays
that seed the truth we need to heed the call.

This humble feast of spirit makes me blessed
With urge to soon embark on holy quest.


III)

With urge to soon embark on holy quest
ascending to the peak of spirit's verge,
I journeyed forth with breast full-brim with zest
and faith you'd fill my tanks to fullest surge.
Prepared for tests that might make me oppressed,
I guessed I would eventually emerge
inside the glow of holy love, possessed
of mind made pure and free by this deep purge.

At first my path was strewn with bits of bliss
and kissed with rapture in your radiance.
I wondered if the hard road had been missed--
or would there be a change in gradients?
I sensed the path might well encounter twists;
made efforts so as not to become tense
with apprehension when I entered mists
of pain. I knew I would gain recompense!

So onward I proceeded, riding high,
surrendering all thoughts of how or why.

IV)

Surrendering all thoughts of how or why,
I trusted you would guide me all the way
through desperation dark in inky sky,
to transformation's sigh at break of day.
I'd not known you'd allow my mind to fry
in moments of confusion, though I'd pray
for sustenance, but you would let me die
and cry until my tears had dried away.

I sometimes grasped that all the work performed
was orchestrated for my benefit,
including when by slander I was scorned
and blamed for acts that I did not commit.
With noble aspirations I conformed,
though you kept placing heart inside a pit.
I mourned not, as illusions, once adorned,
were smashed by your hard hammer, bit by bit.

Like gold and silver purified by fire,
you placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre.

v)

You placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre
where old wounds burn away and form melts down
so clarity could shine through stayed desire
and tranquil smile replaces fretful frown.
Like sculptor using chisel without tire,
you chipped until huge burdens had all flown;
then tweaked my consciousness with perfect pliers--
and laughed to see how grateful I had grown.

One day you sent me out into the field
of life to be your humble instrument
and gently visit those who could not yield
despair, intent to help them be content
and trust eternal light shall be revealed.
For loss and sorrow serve as complement
to joy. The soul's complaints are only healed
when we accept that all is heaven sent.

I see, now that you've made my heart so tender,
serenity comes only with surrender.

VI)

Serenity comes only with surrender,
and trust that all is ultimately one.
Duality is merely a pretender,
and God plays on this stage to have some fun.
Illusion is composed of form and gender;
of planets, moon and stars, and blazing sun.
But death compiles us all inside a blender--
when atoms merge, apparent form's undone.

Though sure of this, I sometimes still forget.
And then you're there to pull the veils aside,
remind me not to lose sight nor to let
my focus on pure consciousness to slide
away and hide the truth that's firmly set
(yet can be falsified by stubborn tide
when mind is caught in habit's sticky net,
aligned with sadness, anger, greed or pride.)

If I did not have you, Beloved Master,
this life might have resulted in disaster!

VII)

This life might have resulted in disaster
if mind had wandered from the golden goal.
But you are there, available to plaster
the cracks along this path to super-soul.
I used to think I wanted to go faster
but now I have contentment in my bowl,
in faith that you're a competent forecaster,
so none of us will end up as a troll!

Deep gratitude to you cannot be told
except by tears occasionally wept,
and ever-glowing confidence that's bold
because I work for you, a true Adept.
I trust you to perfect the inner mold
in time, when all mind-corridors are swept
completely clean of karma, black or gold,
so lastly pristine consciousness is kept.

Although your methods can seem rather stern,
Beloved, you are whom I always yearned.

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

Please trust me dear rama when I say I want to come back and savor each sonnet. Like Michael, an undertaking of love...........Namaste, and I miss you much.

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

I read this a number of times before going to sleep, and it set the table for a peaceful preamble to Morpheus calling. I appreciate the effort and time it took for this crown to be completed.

A celestial walk of the spiritual path, and relationship of devotee and Master. A work like this does not need to be gone over with a fine-toothed comb.........just letting the essence seep into one's being is enough. (The multitude of poetic devices, i.e. good use of internal rhyme, enjambment, alliteration, et.al.) blend in quite nicely, making the message even more pleasurable to receive.

I thank you for this and its depth reached mine.

ps--I loved radiance and gradients!!

[mfwilkie]

There's oh so much to like in this, rama.
It's content is stunning.

This has to be at the top of my favorites though:

But then I'd hearkened to the note that sings
the reason we are given wings of birth.

I do disagree with Jon, though, about this one thing.
Something of this grandeur, set in a specific form
should read fluidly rama.

Some of the sentence construction is awkward, as in the first
line below; the modifier, 'gracious, seems the wrong choice for
what the two lines together are conveying to the reader.

You placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre
where old wounds burn away and form melts down

You placed this soul on atop a funeral pyre
where old wounds burn away and form melts down

It is the second line that brings the image to fruition and
heightens the reader's attention to the message in the image.

I'm wondering if you wrote this first in English, rama, or translated it from your native tongue. The bumps in construction,
I believe, are only because English is not your first language.

There are many lines that read perfectly, which makes the ones that aren't rattle the ear even more.

That said this is a beautiful piece of work, rama.

I urge you to find someone to help you with those 'bumps' in line construction. Fixing them won't change intent, they will only make the technical side of the poem as flawless as its content and intent.

Maggie











Beloved, you are whom I always yearned
for; knowledge lost to me when still in youth.

[ramadevi]

Thank you very much for your thoughtful reviews Jon and Maggie.

Namaste dear brother---so pleased this touched your depths! I am also particularly fond of that rhyme pair.
Miss you too---will try to stop by more often. Lots of Love, rd

Dear Maggie
Thanks for your critique...and I would love to hear which lines you bumped on besides what's quoted here. English is my first language---I thought you all knewI am a westerner, born and brought up in New York City!~ I live in India, but I am not Indian.

I definitely want to keep GRACIOUS there---as that is indeed the intent of those lines---the guru 'kills' the negativities and ego in the disciple, so the funeral pyre is gracious, indeed. however, it doesn't roll off the tongue well---'tis true. WIll consider alternatives.

Also, I will post a revised version...perhaps I've already made changes to the lnes that bumped for you.

If not, please let me know~

Warmhugs to you both,
rama devi

[mfwilkie]

Beloved, you are whom I always yearn
for; knowledge lost to me when still in youth.

Beloved, it is you for whom I yearn
that/a knowledge lost to me when still a youth.


My infant (child-like) heart had not learned to discern
that it would only burn to know the truth
of your exalted light. I did not spurn
fine comforts churned by greedy tongue and tooth
but took delight in them, so did not earn
an entrance to your spiritual booth.

I had not seen the transience of things(,)
nor realized the only goal of worth
is found not laced by sudden sorrow's stings
in recipe with fleeting fits of mirth,
but rather soars beyond the realm of kings
and characters that live upon this earth.
But then I'd hearkened to the note that sings *(,)
the reason we are given wings of birth.

* Rama, What about a comma here? The lines support it.


Awakening unfurled, by active grace,
to prompt a search for this soul's sacred space. Love your couplet!

I'm reading your revision, one sonnet at a time.

Maggie

[ramadevi]

Thanks for your careful attention Mags, much appreciated. I will consider you suggestion on first line.

The first comma I will add. the second one actually changes the way i meant the sentence to be read.

Thanks again Look forward to hearing more from you.

Love, rd

[mfwilkie]

II)

To prompt a search for this soul's sacred space,
my psyche had to undergo a shift,
and invite you, Beloved, as my base.

inviting you, Beloved, as my base.



I sent my preconceptions off, fast a to drift


upon the river's rapid current's pace;
it carried them away and caused a rift
in consciousness that soon revealed your face grace
inside within my heart--while ego became miffed.

For ego doesn't comprehend the maze
created deftly to dismantle all
resistance to surrendering the haze
of fallacy, and its delusional
assumption we control the inner blaze.
Endeavoring to extradite the ball--
I grew amazed by your ingenious plays
that seed the this truth: we need to heed the call.

This humble feast of spirit makes me blessed
With urge to soon embark on holy quest. **

**Listen to the last line of the couplet, Rama.

It's out of harmony with the line above it, my friend.

Maggie

[mfwilkie]

III)

With urge to soon embark on holy quest
ascending to the peak of spirit's verge,

Rama, in the first two lines, N speaks about the 'urge' to make a holy quest and then, in the same breath, takes the first steps toward that goal. The flow of action should be smooth.

Some things to think about re: flow.




I took the steps to mark a holy quest
to travel to the peak of spirit's verge,
and journeyed forth, with breast full-brim with zest
and faith you'd fill my tanks to fullest surge.
Prepared for tests that might make me oppressed,
I guessed I would eventually emerge
inside the glow of sacred love, possessed
of mind made pure and free by this deep purge.

At first my path was strewn with bits of bliss
kissed by the rapture in your radiance.*

*I used a substitution in the opening of this line, rama.

I wondered if the hard road had been missed--
or if there'd be a change in gradients?
I sensed the path might well encounter twists;
made efforts to relax when times grew tense
with apprehension as I entered mists
of pain. I knew I would gain recompense!

So onward I proceeded, riding high,
surrendering all thoughts of how or why.

Maggie

[ramadevi]

Thanks for your careful read and suggestions dear friend.

This change, however, does not scan into iambic pentameter, so doesn't work for me.

kissed by the rapture in your radiance.*

kissed by rapture in your radiance is the way i have it now.

[mfwilkie]

"This change, however, does not scan into iambic pentameter, so doesn't work for me."

kissed by the rapture in your radiance.*

kissed by rapture in your radiance is the way i have it now.




Sweet rama,

It is pentameter, but pentameter with a substitution in the opening foot which makes the line read more naturally than yours.

A draft this long written without taking advantage of metrical substitutions available to the writer is not a good read, rama,
particularly when the poem is attempting to say important things
as this one is.

All "iambic" reduces options for word choice, causes the writer to force sentence construction and rhymes, and diminishes the power a poem can have.

Strict IP has its place, but I honestly believe it should not be used for this poem.

All the greats, past and present, used substitutions, rama.

One key to remember, from Annie Finch, is that after one or two lines with substitutions, a strict iambic line is usually called for for balance.



This line is a perfect example of forced language:

Beloved, you are whom I always yearn
for; knowledge lost to me when still in youth.

Beloved, it is you for whom I yearn;
a knowledge lost to me when still a youth.

The way I wrote it above, is an "ah-hah", a dawning, a recognition, a wake-up call on the N's part; it is what I believe the N is trying to convey, a realization that's had a profound affect.

And here, desperation dark in inky sky, Awkward, and what is 'desperation dark'? Desperation by itself implies 'dark, stressful, etc..

Surrendering all thoughts of how or why,
I trusted you would guide me all the way
through desperation dark in inky sky,
to transformation's sigh at break of day.


Surrendering all thoughts of how or why,
I trusted you would guide me to the end
of desperation


I'm going to repeat myself, here, rama: the modifier, 'gracious, stillseems the wrong choice for pyre.


You placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre
where old wounds burn away and form melts down
so clarity could shine through staid desire
and tranquil smile replaces fretful frown.


You placed this soul atop a funeral pyre
where old wounds burn away and form melts down
so clarity can shine through staid desire
and tranquil smiles replace a fretful frown.


The action that occurs on the pyre is a far greater descriptive image than saying a "gracious funeral pyre" which lends nothing to the relationship between the guru and his disciple.

This is one of those 'darlings" you need to edit out, the personification just doesn't work, and it competes with "intent", which is expressed so well in the following three lines.

You've got the IP down, friend, don't be afraid to use the substitutions.

I don't know how else to say this, rama, so I'm just going to say it:
this poem is too important to be bogged down by bad technique.

Step out of your comfort zone. Learn the substitutions available . Write some couplets and quatrains using them. Read. Read. And Read. Scan what you're reading; just because you don't hear strict IP doesn't mean it's not metrically correct. Amen.

Hope all is well with you.

Maggie









Maggie

[ramadevi]

Big hug and kiss!

You are totally right. Thanks for opening my eyes!

When time permits, I'm going to edit this and re-post. Thanks a ton, dear.

Hugs, rd

[mfwilkie]

You are very welcome, my friend.

Maggie

[ramadevi]

Hi Mags---have made a few of the changes and am still pondering about the suggestion relating to "gracious funeral pyre" (so no need to reiterate that one LOL!) Still working on this one, but needed a long distance from it first. Am putting once again on the back burner. One of the reasons I have not been active much here is because 1) I am writing more prose lately.
2) i have been doing free lance editing and busy with clients. ;-)

Hope all is well with you. (and all EP friends.....we're all busy elsewhere, lately, i think!)