'O Lord, I am Your goldsmith on this earth' <br />sang Sonar, Maharashtra's poet of old, <br />who hammered out the ingots of pure truth <br />to poetry, that turns speech into gold; <br /> <br />who sought Yourself within himself to reach, <br />from heart of gold, that golden mind might shine; <br />to sing Your praise; and find Your All in each; <br />reflect your Word; make human thought divine - <br /> <br />yet knew himself but shapeless gold You shaped; <br />shaped in this life, by grace, as goldsmith born; <br />graced with the richest substance You create, <br />to live and speak some gleam of You reborn. <br /> <br />May we be worthy of this golden race <br />of poets: praise in all things, Your one grace. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />(Narahari Sonar - Sonar means goldsmith, which was the family profession - 13th century goldsmith, poet and saint)<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0250-to-indian-poets/
