The darshan moment
Living for tomorrow
is a pilgrim in the queue,
absently fingering a garland,
inching his way toward darshan.
Living in the past, a pilgrim
walking back to the retreat
empty-handed under the stars,
the warmth fading in his chest.
The task is to live in the darshan moment.
Behind the doors you’ve burst through,
in the kneeling and bowing moment,
on the floor of cold stone tears.
He awaits you – expects you – every moment,
a cleft of shoulder and neck
in which to hide your crumbling face
and empty your heart; a pillar to lean on,
a gaze from eyes shining
with an unearthly love.
O child of God, live in the darshan moment.
Before and after are the nuances of a listless dream.
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