In the shadowed hush of moonlight's grace, I stand, bare and boundless, in night's embrace.
Ketu's fingers, cool and keen,
Trace the edges of what has been.
Rahu stirs where futures bloom,
Stretching wide beneath the moon.
I feel the pull, the tethered thread,
Between what lives and what is dead.
A tightrope strung from star to star, Carrying who we were, and are.
Virgo's hands, with steady care,
Sift the stories I still wear.
Venus leans with tender eyes,
Loving all that in shadow lies.
I gather what's ready to fall away,
Lay it softly where embers stay.
Ash to earth, mist to air,
Gone but held in sacred prayer.
And through the quiet, golden bright,
Sri Caitanya walks the night.
Not as memory, not as name,
But as love that burns like flame.
His devotion seeps through bone and skin,
A river deep that stirs within.
A call to open, to break, to be—
To meet the Divine inside of me.
I do not ask, nor seek, nor plead,
But stand in the fullness of what I need.
To be broken open, wide and true,
To be seen, and see, as the moonlight knew.
And when I am hollow, when I am bare,
Let the wind sing through what was never there.
And let that song be my release,
A whisper of love, a breath of peace.
So it is.
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