to the cosmic nomad
wandering
from one end of the universe
to the other
riding his faithful bull
with no place to call home
except
the heart of the pure devotee,
i offer
one bilva leaf
with
all my love...

© 2017

i-con-i-c means
i con (you)
(and) i (see)
(that the con's working well!)

no iconic brands
that you sport
is a window
into
the real you

true completeness
seldom comes
from
boutiques of glamour,
but discovered
from a deep dive within
to find
the real "I"

© 2017

my poetic joss
seems
to have run out
for now.

this patch of dry ink,
feels like a bee,
visiting flower to flower,
only to find no honey

oh goddess of poetry!
when will thou
take a seat
on the tip of my tongue
for the river of poetry
to flow freely?

© 2017

scarred
for life
she was....

not from
the burns inflicted
by an archaic kitchen stove
which quietly
became her life...

or those instances
of physical abuse
levied against her
by her drunken husband

but by a barrage
of verbal diarrhea,
sprayed from
his foul mouth,
each stinging word
sharper than any sword

© 2017

after fourteen billion years
of separation,
shakti
is finally ready
for her rendez-vous
with shiva
the true love of her life...

as duality ends
matter
and awareness
become one

© 2017

ever noticed
three cloaks worn by God:
omnipresent,
omnipotent,
and omniscient,
all start with
om,

it's as though
providence says:
om (n) i are:
present, potent and scient

om,
thou art
the sacred sound
of the cosmos,
and the very breath
of consciousness

© 2017

my darling krsna,

isn't it time
to put away
that decorated flute
of yours?

knowing well
this is where
soulful melodies
which sustain
the rhythm of the universe
emanates from

let the birds stop singing
the gopis stop dancing
the stars stop shining
and the universe stop expanding

from here on
you belong
to me alone...

eternally yours,

radha

© 2017