Time after time I came to your gateWith raised hands, asking for more and
yet more.
You gave and gave, now in slow
measure, now in sudden excess.
I took some, and some things I let
drop; some lay heavy on my hands;
Some I made into play things and broke
them when tired; till the wrecks and
the hoard of your gifts grew immense,
hiding you, and the ceaseless expectation
wore my heart out.
Take, oh, take—
has now become my cry.
Shatter all from this beggar’s bowl:
put out the lamp of the importunate
watcher: Hold my hands, raise me from
the still-gathering heap of your gifts
into the bare infinity
of your uncrowded presence.
- Rabindranath Tagore
It is such a joy to find a poem again after having once loved it and then forgotten about it. This lovely creature, this poem, found me today after all these years. Or, maybe we found each other after years of forgetting. It fits so well with my longing to surrender joyfully this year. However, the words that have really made a nest in my heart are these: "...the bare infinity of your uncrowded presence." That sounds a bit like heaven and I hope I will be spending more time in the uncrowded presence of the Holy One. Perhaps I'll meet you there.
