a lighted small part
of that hidden yet complete,
awaiting a future light
from somewhere as a sun;
where does that first newborn smile
come from? what does it know?
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I’ve only got to say the word…and
mixed with a hurhur hurhur as of naughty boys…suddenly lips and fingers have their vivid, hungry memories…while ladies have their own reactionsnot unaware of the murmur hurhur and the factthat some men think they own these, ungifted, as of right…and some of us, perforce, have memories as intimate,loving, detailed, at our fingertips:the years that once…
‘And what of the gopis? ’
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My knees, my mind, my whole soul aches
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It’s one of the world’s
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everything in Creation
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Rumi wrote much about silence.
Poets live with silence:the silence before the poem;the silence whence the poem comes; .the silence in between the words, as youdrink the words, watch them glide through your mind,feel them slide down your throattowards your heart;the silence which you share with the poetwhen the poem ends, sitting side by side,feeling one another being one heart;the…