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Spirit Kirana
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Hyacinth garden perennial sky in the fading dusk
the blue turns rusted pink, then to burnished purple
I hear the call from the wind
like sweet flutes
I am waists high in wind
on moonless nights, who is the one that cares for the acacia flowers
when their shadows are alone
even shadows emerge into a new dawn
there are so many
to the child of light, I am a shadow
endowed with a rich voice, my aesthetic sensitivity
setting aside that I am lonely but never alone
you ask me why I write poems written by me for all of us
the reason I write is that I implore just one thing
there are words in my soul, I am a poet without a terminus
receptions from my devotion to light
because every poem I recite
they are like the moon in cycles
over and over in reflections of time
speeding through the thunderous night
against eternity and darkness
in some jasmine forests at midnight
I become moonlight traversing serene paths
if we held each other’s eyes in a peaceful gaze
spirit Kirana, face sweet, rise in my earthly days
