a river surges with love

To stay, or to come back again, or to never leave. To start all over, metamorphosing ourselves into strangers. To find each other on a path other than the one curved by the heat of a summer. 

Today, under the ground, the earth is simmering its life juice, and the buds tremble with the anticipation of breaking. For us, it is still dark, the smell of winter lingers still in the nooks of our home. I believe in the night. We are made to stay and knot our hands together with the love we nursle.

And I am curled up under God’s feet like a small prayer, my only shelter, I whisper His name again and again. The beautiful Lords of my heart raise Their hands to welcome the flower, the scent, the water from trembling hands wearied by insufficient faith. And those are my hands that fold in begging. Nitai, Gaura dancing Gods of miracle, You offered Your heart to the river Padma and let the Ganges caress the Feet of grace. Nitai, Gaura I am the darkness of dusk without You, please do not leave for my soul is eclipsed by delusion. Nitai, Gaura the luster of Your shadow is what saves me; let me cry Your name, let me cry Your name. 

The moon is full tonight, and in a lack of sleep I osmose its dark coolness, a ray of hope. At last, silence.