Sangharakshita@90
By Abhayamaitri on Sun, 16 Aug, 2015 - 20:58
By Abhayamaitri on Sun, 16 Aug, 2015 - 20:58We cry that we are weak although
We will not stir our secret wings;
The world is dark – because we are
Blind to the starriness of things.
We pluck our rainbow-tinted plumes
And with their heaven-born beauty try
To fledge nocturnal shafts, and then
Complain ‘Alas! we cannot fly!’
We mutter ‘All is dust’ or else
With mocking words accost the wise:
‘Show us the Sun which...
