COSMIC DANCE
Cyril Dabydeen
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The way we’ve come to it with
one breath, heaving in with more
than the lotus flower, or what we
contrive because of longings of
the spirit with mystics of old,
rishies at our doorstep, or what’s
conceived of only in the Vedas.
Going beyond an ashram in Rishikesh,
or somewhere like it, it’s the cowherd girls,
gopies, with choreography in their eyebrows,
that I think about, their foreheads arched,
hands & feet filigreed–as I will imagine ...
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