Oh this yearning…
What shall I do with it?
Shall I drown it out with the monotonous drone of my routine?
How long can I gently cajole it with the splendors of romantic love?
I have enticed it with the glitter of wealth, and the power of fame,
In the hope that it will find solace,
And forget the emptiness ringing in me.
It lays dormant awhile,
Playing with these toys I bring,
Considering its consolation prizes.
But,
At every sound of Truth,
It wakes up and cries again,
Like a child without its mother in the middle of the night,
Remembering her soft warm embrace.
Like a root pulled out of the soil,
Separated from whence it came,
It remains incomplete and lost.
Alas, it will not be appeased.
Seeing through the illusory promise of happiness,
It goes on singing, crying its haunting melody,
And stirs my soul with longing again.
I carry on, listless, restless,
Continually filling my empty cup
with swiftly vanishing pleasures,
Unsure of what or when or how
this deep painful yearning will be satisfied.
Oh what shall I do with this yearning?
- Sharanya Rao
March 2003
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