A woman's awaking

For the weary

            I wake to sleep

            And take my waking slow.

            In sleep what is there to know?

            I learn by following where I have to go.

            This is the field where the battle did not happen.

            Her hands lie open in the long fresh grass.+

            Her lips look like rosey blooms.

            She is my Goddess;

            My Chrishna.

            I take refuge in her.

            Our heavy breath

            Our song of love.

          ~~~
            *(^)
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