knowledgeable - A blog by Shivam Lotusway

Gitanjali    Thou hast made me endless, such is thy P leasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest A ngain and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life. This little flute of a reed thou hast C arried over hills and dales. And hast Breathed though it melodies eternally new. At the immortal touch of thy hands my L ittle heart looses its limits in joy and gives B irth to utterance ineffable. Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass  and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill 2  In one salutation to thee, my God, let A ll my senses spread out and touch this W orld at thy feet. Like a rain-cloud of july hung low W ith its burden of unshed showers let all My mind bend down at thy door in one S alutation to thee Let all my songs gather together  their diverse strains into a single current and F low to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee. L ike a flock of homesick cranes flying N ight and day back to their mountain N e