Like a maranta

Rasa Ravi, 2022

While cleaning my maranta’s leaves from heaped dust,
stroking them kindly and bathing them in a lukewarm shower,
I know You are here watching the drops and droplets
that imagine they are jumping from a rainbow tower.

Some of them are trundling and stop at the margin,
others have a greater impetus and are falling over.
Still others are gently hopping in careless joy,
step by step getting to the ground closer.

There are those who join forces to together trickle,
to avoid facing the fleshy ramparts of vivid veins.
Not musing on what will happen in the next moment,
they lose themselves in Your embrace where only faith remains.

Like children rolling down the snowy hillside
who repeatedly fall down from their sleds swaying,
until completely exhausted the body shuts down—
the play that is understood only by those playing.

Not wanting to free me from Your madness of Love
You condemned my life, making my heart lament.
My soul needs a shower, too, to cleanse woeful despair.
Will You overflow me and stop my torment?

Love vanishes quickly like water from leaves.
I couldn’t inhale enough of it in the shortness of my breath.
I wish I didn’t need ever to exhale,
trapped in excitement praising idle death.

I am a tiny driblet who falls over my body,
who leaving it, jumps on You, chasing Your pearls of sweat.
Senselessly following Your body-curves I taste
the sweet salts of unbecoming when myself I forget.

Hand-in-hand with the gems of Your glowing beads
we would run long-distance and together sigh,
gradually waning while taking Your body-warmth
we would await the miracle to be able to fly.

Perhaps that nothing-left could find a way back,
a thread into You through the gates of Your pores.
Forever dissolved in Your body praying—
tear-drop of a maranta who at night adores.