Sri Radha

A shy moon blushes,
Rose pink, full-petalled
Above the trees;
Bashful smiles
Thread the edges
Of leaves.

Like sky fruit hanging,
Ripe and waiting;
Yet the moon sheds
Its veils as it climbs;
Down they drift, settle,
Pools of soft silver
Around Her lotus feet.

Arrow through the heart,
She pierces the forest,
Her soft steps belie
A boldness, a passion
So fierce
Universes bow down
And burn before it.

In those veins
Runs the blood of all time,
Sings the song of all souls—
Hers the heart
That captured the Captor,
Set all worlds spinning,
Galaxies whirling:

Hear now, how it beats!

Here now She stands
And leans in,
Breath of Her Beloved,
Whispered blessings,
Swaying across
Her unblinking gaze
Those few stray strands.

This touch was
Never bound by earth, by body,
But reached down
From beyond all heavens,
Reached out
From within every atom.

This touch is
Only always now.

And we who listen,
Who seek, who see,
Must find Them, these Lovers
Close, in the forest, moonlit, now:
She leans in, arms around Him,
That eternal instant,
Like fire holds the darkness,
Like lightning hugs the cloud.

-Swami Ambikananda Saraswati