The Wholesome Satyr

I seek you door-to-door in alms,
Head prone and supine palms;

In apologue to sing and chant,
Extol your monistic charms.

Mull on a favoured form; serve,
Fevered brow and frenzied arms;

Liturgy, litany - reduce to Love,
As a Sufi’s homily disarms.

Mate! To befriend you, ‘Ravi’,
I cede the Self - have no qualms.

Unrequited though this failed ghazal -
Absent refrain - the soul embalms.

Labels: Dervish