Advaita? Merely a sigh
encircling two in its belly,
"Aah" savoring "Dvah."
Intimate conversations
with the Friend,
flavors of thirst and rapture
flowering in the heart
of the One....
Every thistle silk and dandelion
is a boundless soul
who aches for wind-ravishing.
A swan floating on its
own rippled reflection.
Wait patiently for the hour
when the plum
breaks its stem and falls,
unplucked.
You are betrothed
to a mysterious Guest
whose face is the night,
whose secret caress is
the risen fallen softness
of your own breath.
Photo: Dancing Pen Books
No comments:
Post a Comment