9. I am an idiot

I know I am an idiot true.
In the growing clouds my hopeful feet,
Hands flung skywards for the blue stars.
My throes no sun, no moon, shall greet.

I had a dream, a real dream:
God would bury Himself to live
In human ignorance hungry and black,
To human death His Soul He'd give.
Sri Chinmoy, My Flute, Agni Press, 1972