What does it mean to be reborn when the world thinks you’re fading? For those unfamiliar, Benares is one of India’s holiest cities—a place where the spiritual and temporal intermingle…
I
At nigh on three score and ten,
My gloaming lingers,
Standing here upon Benares’ ghat .
Is it the smells, the sights, the sounds
That so surround me?
Have I been here before?
II
I feel a strange dawning.
An unexpected awakening
That unfurls insights of
Joys and treasures missed.
Unabated hungers and passions,
Feathered by a novel night breeze.
III
What feeds and excites
This revelation of my release?
Or is it the newness of a reprieve?
It is the freedom of escape
From brave and dirty
Duty’s forced imprisonment.
IV
How many others are, or have been,
Where I am today? Lost,
Near death, yet renewed, however sudden or short?
Wisdom, insight, love
Can come unexpectedly, I know,
To those who seek and search.
V
Spurned, disparaged, misunderstood,
I am – and will be.
Yet to the helm I cleave.
But friendships and memories are gifts
To adore.
And despite the cost, I must hold.
VI
Benares is ancient, holy, complex,
Revered, scorned, loved.
Unchanging, o’whelmed with meaning.
The Ganges understands, unspeaking.
Unlike the fools, babbling ignorance.
However brief my sojourn, hear my anthem.
