|| a sign ||

In my Ganga

I live

You are my Yamuna

like in my Krishna

you are my Radha

In your words

I touch

in your thirst for words

I quench the thirst of my soul

I surrender my eternal longing

Carried upon the vessel of your words

I reach

the source of the Yamuna, your heart

the colour of the cotton tree flower

silks buds hidden

awaiting the flowering

gift of the mustard flower

preceding spring

Sometimes rain falls

on the island bosom

of the river

as waves write

the longing of the river’s heart

as I do

On the sandy bank

of the ocean

whirlpools tell of

dream pools of the sea

as you do

On the deserted shore

of the earth

sometimes dew

sometimes a raindrop

writes

a matchless ballad

of unfulfilled desire

for me and you