Heart is a strange place,
To arrive or choose to stay on.

Not all residence,
Find the hidden treasure,
The ones they do,
Kneel, speechless before
The amazing light of the beloved.

They turn their destiny,
Inside out,
Burning flames of candle,
Silent walker of light,
Chain-free seers of love
Ravishing crystal of soul,
They become.

Once,
I had a story,
Written on my face,
In blood.

On a stormy day of change,
A brave wind of west,
Blew dusty air of beloved heaven.

I had a chance,
To glimpse at her rose garden,
Her midnight moon,
Her house of grace.

Poor heart of mine,
Fell under her spell.

A crack appeared on my face,
Shattered it like a fragile glass,
Now, the reflection plays in mirror of life,
Has no sign of the story or my face.

Free to dance,
I joined the circle of lovers,
Permanent resident of the heart.

Walking in garden of love,
Hand in hand,
With my beloved,
Full of joy and laugh,
Dissolve in her essence.

One deep gaze,
Eyes can tell,
I, myself, become garden of her love.

© Serena Devi, Jan 2010, Thornhill Canada

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