When I Sit To Write The Universe

I’m the, maker of, my infinity
The yarn, I weave with, my faith’s, fine strings
My God, dwells not, in divinity
But, that insolence, my every sin, sings!

Where begins, this realm, and that one, ends
There melt, into one, space, substance and time
It’s all, in my mind, that, God’s glory, ends
To pave way, for faith, thru fear’s paradigm!

From a, rickety chair, reigns the, Lord of Thoughts
O’er world, strewn on, altar of, his desk
That fertile farm, wherefrom, wild world sprouts
No wonder, I am, a “Fantasist Kafkaesque”!

Beyond chasms, of poison, and nectar
Heaves The, Sea of Trinity, of My Verse
All dissolve, to a, singular conjecture
When I, Sit To Write, The Universe!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra

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