Longings
Were I a mighty Master swaying Art
In all her lovely forms surpassing fair
And robed in magic mystery, aware
Of cunning artist-craft, a mind and heart
Aglow with Beauty’s sacred spark, a part
Of God’s creative light! If I could share
The gift of breathing life-infusing air
In canvas, draw thy rapturous sweetness, start
The portrait beaming, bright in loveliness;
The sculptor’s skill—to shape thy limbs divine
In living marble, show thy beauty’s prime!
Shall I encrowned with laurel, sing for Time,
Eternity, and Universe, enshrine
Thy name for ages, scorning storm and stress?
P. Seshadri.