Divine Robe

O weaver!
Weave a robe for me,
Embroidering with the stars,
Shining with the golden rays
Of the sun,
Coming from my monarch’s palace.

Whiteness of the silvery clouds
Be spread all around;
You have no bound;
Yield it a princely grace
That I may found
A gorgeous space
In the heart kind
Of my Lord.

Place on it elegant cone-bearing trees
That render a message
To go straight
Without entangling
In attractive and ephemeral bushes.

Icy surface with lotus-pink,
Blending of red and white
Will reach my robe
The peak of purity.

The velvety and soothing robe
Will give me deliverance
From my old garments
That are piercing my innocence
With thorny attraction.

I will wear the beautiful robe
And go to my master’s room;
Will sit under his shadow


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About Alok Mishra

Born in India in 1981, Alok Mishra is a teacher and an award winning poet. He has had a keen interest in writing poems since a very young age. His poems have been published in various journals and websites in several countries. He loves to write spiritual and romantic poems.

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