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Monday, March 5, 2007


for H.E.

The first time I truly saw you.
It was in a remote world.
It was years ago.
You, yourself, were manifest in a niche
In a Hindu temple, a marble figure,
With your eyes carved wide-open.
You were adorned in regal, pageant gown,
Dyed violet to match the color of your eyes.

Brass bowls of red-hot coals burned
Perfumed incense sticks at your feet

Your supplicants cued from portal to portal arch,
And eagerly sought their chance
good fortune to implore.

Each carried on polished metal trays
Oblations of flowers and fruit,
strings of marigolds,
Presents of large lotus,
bananas, coconuts,
and pomegranates.

All was splashed with bright vermilion powder,
As if to remind the procession, that once
blood had sanctified the sacrifice.

And me, I await, patient. Like the other mortals,
I pray for your favor, and hope to tease meaning
Out from the stare of your carved and painted face.

I go deep within my pocket to pull wrapped hard candy,
Add it to my tray of gifts, and excitedly, aloud, tell
The temple priests that I now wear appropriate rainments,
That my nostrils detect a whiff of your mango fragrance!

And in the clamor, over and against the
background noise of the street.
I believe I hear your coded parlance,
'I miss you'.

Goddess, Love, grant me the serenity
To accept the long absence before you are
flesh in my arms again,
The courage to change those things about me
so better to be proper devotee,
And the wisdom to remain faithfully yours
today, tomorrow, and fervently always.

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