A climbing ray
builds up.
I see His face -
the cathedral of all my hopes.

He gives my silted-self
finer parts.
Courage, faith and vigour.
I return to my possessions - my lost goals.

The Tree of Life is no more
a persistent dark bark.
Light is virtual, crown substantial.
I am roused by His blessed glow.

1998

Geeta Chhabra