Where longing dwells...

Crouching by the golden window,

I peeped in for a closer look,

A curd-churner firmly held in hand,

The dark-skinned one, quietly stood.

A girdle beset with gems,

Adorning his tiny waist.

A glowing emerald pendant

Resting softly on his chest.

Watching me with his Lotus Eyes,

As my own eyes filled with tears.

Is it this child with whom

The Gopikas fell in love?

Whose touch became the wandering breeze

That lingered on their skin?

Whose footsteps they saw

In every grain of sand,

In the gentle crunch of leaves,

Across hills, through meadows, beside the river?

Whose anklets tinkled in the distance

Each time they milked their cows?

Whose words they heard

In the humming of the bumble bees?

Who were never together,

Yet never were separate,

Not for the space of half a breath.

And yet, their yearning for a glimpse

Of the one who owned their soul

Could never be quenched –

How could it be?

For now I too stand at his window,

Asking for one more glimpse.