Like a silkworm weaving her house with love from her marrow, and dying in her body's threads winding tight, round and round, I burn desiring what the heart desires. Cut through, O lord, my heart's greed, and show me your way out, O lord white as jasmine. (Mahadeviyakka; translated by A.K. Ramanujan)
Creature of light waits on the shore of laughable possibility, mocked
Revilement of tender song that wails on as if crushed atoms and
Vaporized verse particles could pull off a less than majestic feat, a sonorous
Dissenting dis-chord that fundamentally alters silhouettes and phantasms
While soothing the wail, soothing the loss of traction nurturing a liquid hollow,
Filling the blank, restive space where creature meets creature.