Seeing Mother Meera today was refreshing... I have a hard time writing a description without feeling cliched. Let's just say she has a joyful, playful, delightful look in her eyes... she is purity, goodness. I came home and wrote this poem.
My mantra has no words that stay,
they float away.
Knock on letters, grammar, vowels,
you’ll hear a sound - wispy hollow -
through which spry meaning runs.
Beyond rough language launch the thread,
gather it down fine instead
from the Divine,
yours or mine,
several visages or one.
Holy messengers inspire
as long as we desire
many names and none.
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