The last port of call

How grand a sight is the movement of clouds in the sky, like herds of elephants moving in the heavens, like hills that have sprung wings sailing along in an ocean of blue!

But even as I marvel at the contours of the clouds gathering in the skies, they fizzle out into nothingness.

The grand spectacles that I marvel at are stupendous when they last, but they last for some moments.

When at the break of dawn, the incipient rays of the infant sun irradiate the clouds, it’s a sight for the heavens.

Unfathomable hues colour the empyrean…molten gold rubs shoulders with rosy hues of pink…a veritable river of heavenly delight flows on the horizon.

I have stood transfixed at the golden rendezvous…but even as I opened my eyes once again the east would be a clean slate, an unwritten board of pale blue.

The emotions and sensations that human relationships have engendered in my heart have also been thrilling, but have lasted only a while.

They have flowered like some eager garden in spring, but soon the seasons have changed and the warmth of relationships has become a distant memory.

Now I have clung to you, My Lord, my last anchorage. You are my last port of call. All voyages have ceased, except the one towards the One ; all clingings have vanished except to the One that lasts for all time.