It's true:
You're all wet --
and naked as a baby, as well.
But that's no reason
to feel ashamed:
I mean,
look at you:
bright as the sun,
crisp and perfect;
delicate and fierce...
Why do you hide yourself from me?
Can you not see
the joy with which I created you?
Can you not feel
the love and compassion
with which I hold you?
And when I pluck you from your stalk,
it is only because I long to keep
your beauty with me always.
* * *
1 comment:
Oooo, I can almost hear the exotic strum of an instrument I have no name for and the deep, sensual, Kabir-like accented voice of my imagination. Quite lovely!
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