My direction

(3334) Tomar katha bheve, din cale jay

About You thinking,
The days vanish.
My Lord in elation and grief,
Please do come down, stooping
To this dusty earth,
Your constructed mortal sphere.

I'm a man of clay, Master,
Your fabricated, tinged sky lantern.
To obtain a touch of the heavenly,
I run fast, upward facing.

I don't grasp right or wrong time's difference;
Amid Your interior, I search for calmness.
At heart-core please come near;
With a light stationary.

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