stones, bones, shells, and feathers.
Boughs, leaves, and petals withered
and the painted face of the sacred mother,
Scented candles that burn on bright
Tapestry of Van Gogh's Starry Night
A forest sky lit up with fairy lights
guided me to have my first ever sight
"Scattered are the healers, known-unknown
yet linked by a frequency, a wave of thought.
Their duties divided into dusk and dawn,"
whispered my mind with a wisdom of its own.
I wait, like Nandi, waiting for Shiva, his master,
the protector of the Word and the cosmic dancer,
gazing at the flow now slower, now faster
amazed at life and grateful for my master.
- Uththara-
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