Birds singing at daybreak, the taste of God in their beaks.
Shimmering light settles on the ever-flowing stream.
I walk these narrow streets as Your companion.
Hand in hand, this burdened city turns holy.
There’s a longing for You in the corners of my heart.
Nothing washes it out.
No amount of tears.
The Brahmin seeking purity missed my Beloved,
last seen in the marketplace handing out prasad.
O Lord, grant me the poverty of the moment –
poised to follow anywhere, the whim of my Beloved.
Forget notions of love, struggle and triumph.
Nothing’s worth remembering but God.
O child of God, look for the Radiant One among sunlit roses.
The flight of His pink coat along the garden path.
(from The Garden of Surrender, 2004)
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