Prakriti is a simple woman.
She tends her gardens,
murmurs songs while she smiles,
and the gardener is careful
not to step on the busy ants,
working day and night.
As the Queen, she says,
they are tiny you see,
savior you must be.
She talks to them
my regards to your Queen
you are welcome,
she can almost hear
the butterflies whisper....
Her fingertips
are all earthy,
like a clay figurine.
Salt from her tears
They wet the ground
in rain, she does not
feel the need to
dry. Rain, come again,
May you wash away
all pain, so much rain.
Kali, you are pure as snow.
Her man says,
take care, i will be back.
she reads them by
an orange lamp, her letters
his letters,
when the words come along
separated from a battle song.
Sadasiva Kalika
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