Ashram

A hushed silence grows in the valley
as trees grow on mountains free
spectacularly quiet…
up above shyamvarna of my Lord
the shade of His adoring form
fills the sky
as a blue lotus swims in a pond
indulgently
attractive to each passing eye

on the humble red earth below
the two siblings chime
the Giri gushes in joy
and the wind a circling storm
they take turns to speak
they tells me things
about me
how my every desire culminates in Sri
in Hari

when evening finally turns to night
as a young woman comes of age
the growing quietness intensifies
the air is holier than holy
as if it knows that darkness
hides in its secretive fold
a hue so blue
the naked eye can barely glance
upon its beautiful form

I know it’s You
O reclining Vishnu
a tryst with the Mother
of heaven and earth pulls You here
it’s the kohl of Her eyes is it not
that spreads upon the sky
such beauty lies in those darkening clouds
the grand universe stands before me
as I take refuge in its exalted form…