Day-7

I string pearls
on this feeble thread of my breath.
This little heart
wonders if you would wear it?
In front of Bhama's riches and luxury,
you were won
by a lone Tulsi leaf,
Rukmini's offering.

Not as wise as the sages,
Not as glorious as kings and warriors,
I weave pearls into this thread
Waiting for the final pearl
that would bear your name
on my feeble transient breath.

Then like spring winds
you would carry my breath to you,
This pearl garland
gleaming on your chest.

To find oneself
back into wholeness
is Liberation.
And who wouldn't choose
Liberation
When it is dressed as
The Lord who Sleeps
On a Serpent Bed?

.・。.・゜✭・✿.・✫・゜・。.