The author, Nandishi Shriram

The author, Nandishi Shriram
Colors myriad, yet a land unexplore

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

The beloved is what we seek

It just happened one night
One fragmented piece of green glass

Reaches into the quagmire of my wandering soul
I, the dervish woman, seeking love

Am whirling in own web of cosmic unions
Hoping that this time, it is He

Yet I know it is not
The beauty is, the pain

I gasp everyday in the pain I have felt
Over time, this is a familiar ache that my soul needs

Walking on a timeless warp, I break, into million shattered souls
My soul now wanders once more into bereft sands of non-relative time

The Sun starts paling, the twilight hour sets in
I gaze at the yonder, wondering, is this He

I know not, it is not the one
Yet the pain, the familiar pain is there to keep

We walk on a rainy horizon, him and me
He clasps my hand, not letting me go.

I draw away, I cannot
I cannot do so, I cannot be here

My tears fall, rapidly so
He knows, he wipes them away

It is a solitary time once more
My dusty rose lies, morose on a fragrant bed

I weep, tears of joy, sadness, bliss
Yet I know not, who was He?

He caresses my lonesome cheek
Me a wandering damsel, in a search of the Beloved

I walk on, looking back to see him smile
He runs to me, with a slight gasp, I falter in my step

I walk on, letting him run to me
He knows not, it is not He

For the beloved is what we seek
I rest, in knowledge, that love is what I seek

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