Lost in the empty noise of my desperate mind,
I close my eyes and suddenly You reappear.
I want to cry, to cling to You,
to fold myself into the space
between Your arms and I do –
Your loving hands bend and mold me
into driftwood, a sailboat,
white swathes of fabric floating
above me and You release me –
Then the boat pitches off the water’s edge,
an end unnoticed, disappearing.
Shiva, ever gentle,
You hold Your hands over my eyes.
What have I not yet learned about surrender?
Why do I see time like a jailer,
above me rattling his keys?
when every day You pry open bars
and invite me with Your patient smile,
Come out, come out into the sun.
Let me care for you
as the most doting of parents.
Why do I, so many days, choose
to stay in familiar darkness?