Curves, a poem…

Listen, Love

Someday, a bright red pain
A red unlike any you’ve worn
May come searing through your heart
And sit inside you
Stunning the senses
Replacing your freedom to be.

I hope not, but I do, but I hope not
But that day
No matter what fairytales I tell you
I won’t be able to hush it away
Like I did your bruises and tears
The fevers and fogs all these years.

So, you need to know
I’ll be right outside the door
That we both shall build between us:
You, to be alone with your self
Me, to push you to it
And wait.

Learning has curves for a reason, my love
Once, we learn to let go for our own sake
Then, spiralling up, for the other’s.
So we’re freed, spiral by spiral
Alone but together, together but alone.

Map of the Soul…

It does not take time
For innocent waiting
To turn suddenly
Into the roar of love
For you to then burst
Into your deepest song and
Cutting deep through the ego-field
Self-destruct and dance…
If you know what I mean.

A gentle stream born of melting snows
Murmuring over time-rounded stones
Is not aware of her own plunge
Coming up ahead…
Where it’ll tear the valley
With its cascading force
And, thrilled, crash free
Of its previous form

As the world looks on.

You never know what you carry
And why –
Till the map of your soul
Brings you to it.

There, Now (Rakhi Varma, 2021)