And here with the brimming cup I stand, gripped in my praying, outstretched hand - afraid of it being gleaned from my grasp, not of my fingers growing weary of this clasp... The tears refill the steals of the windy air, no fire from the sun can dry up what's here; this river can only… Continue reading Water to your Earth
If I could write as deeply as I love,wine would rain down from the skiesand we'd dance underneathverses would flow from our veins and symphony reside in the tap of our feetbreathing fire would make anewtowns and cities fall on their knees,leaving the earth more fertilethan heaven,in its gloriously destructive wake And so,I search wildly… Continue reading CONSUMED
Image from Pinterest 1The God speaks of longing, and putting it to the testWhat walk through fire will sate my God's request?Relegated to the nightsHe speaks of longing as a ghostthat haunts only whendarkness descends, curtains close2Did the Gopis and the tap of their feetknow any rest? Did not their anklets ring for the Lordbeyond… Continue reading Mirabai
As the shore thirsts for kisses from the soft cool waves, and the coy leaves in the boughs heave, for the rough wind’s embrace - does a reminiscent heart pine away in longing, through the nights and days. © Isha Garg
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