Pilgrimage of love


Many lives ago,
On the road,
pilgrimage of love,
I saw two small birds,
one in the color of white, ( I called it Shams*)
the other one, dark grey, ( I called it moon).
I never saw a third bird.

The road became partner
of my loneliness
and birds
the clouds above my head.

They made love and
flared up
Like flames,
Over my head.
Their ashes,
Moved the mountains,
moved the lakes,
Moved me
To the throat of time,
To become a lover of life,
to swim in stream
Of shams*,
moon and stars.

I became a silver waterfall,
Full of naked girls,
sun bathing on the rocks.

I became passing horses,
Covered in snow white,
Or sometimes brown mud.
I became
hawks with feathers
Sealed in the name of shams*.

I became the lady of the forests,
in dark,
Gaze into the moon,
Count beads,
Remembrance of her lost love.

I became the two birds,
In spirit
Measuring the sky.
White
moved
into the dark.
nothingness
swallowed
the two separated worlds
Transformed them
into One…

An eagle,
a reborn child of sky,
The third bird,
fly out
from heart of the night,
Naked, playful.
In each turn,
white, grey of her feathers
fade away in color of love.

Eagle whirls
In silence,
not aware of self,
enters to unknown,
Illuminates
in love.

Pilgrimage to love,
Is not a road
or destination,
love is
everywhere
and nowhere.

Fly is a legacy
of eagles,
and
Love is a legacy
of all creation.

Whirl in love,
whirl in nothingness,
pilgrimage of love,
is the sacred
in You.

*shams = sun

© Serena Devi, May 2011

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