C. P. Sharma - Ride the Chariot

Prurient angels possess the body,
Mysticism is the realm of the soul;
Sensuous mind tip taps the body,
The bliss lies deep down the soul.

Open eyes see the Body’s Chariot,
Ten stout Horses take its command:
Anger, avarice, pride, sex in the fore,
The nobler senses cannot defend.

All that we hear is the jazz of body,
Sweet lilting song of soul is lost;
Honey dips from the good men,
Freeze deep in body as winter frost.

Ride over the Chariot, command the horses,
Dive deep within to strengthen nobler forces.

*Prompted by Lamont Palmer's poem 'Day of Relative Rest'

C. P. Sharma

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ride-the-chariot/