Personification of myself

A delightful monsoon night is was.  
It has ceased raining.  
Stars like lustrous lamps began to illumine someone’s way
and the moon also shone out parting the curtain of cloud
from behind the yonder mountain ranges
like some handsome shy woman removing the veil from her face.
The forest was absolutely calm.  
Only the little river, absorbed in devout ablutions,
singing sweetly, passed nearby.  
The glow-worms loitered about in the mountainous region
playing with the goddess of forest.  
That was the outward scene.  

Inside my hermitage prevailed peace in abundance.  
In my lonely room, the night with her darkness had lodged for play.
My heart was shaken by the distant voice of the cuckoo.  
Oh! that solitary dark night!  
A benediction for lovers.
I could not make out when but my consciousness was lost in its stream.

Suddenly there was thunder and my heart began to quiver.  
Lightning like some heavenly nymph moved after somebody.  
Coming out at the door I saw the outward beauty.  
And lo!  She came instantly and looked lovingly at me.  
Filled were her body in a pretty piece of cloth.  
There was a fresh garland in her hand also.  
Was she the goddess of forest?

‘I, the goddess of love, intend to meet my lover,’
she exclaimed with a captivating, sweet smile and added,
‘having strolled out as usual I have reached thy temple door today.’

‘Hast thou come for my sake?’  
My eyes began to sparkle by the drinking of her beauty.

‘Yes’, she replied at once,
‘I can’t but approach the door of one
who renouncing everything for me lives for my memory
and breathes for me only.  
Lonely and forlorn was I till now.

And she sat with me on my bedding.  
Interlacing her lotus-like, tender fingers with mine she spoke,
‘This is grace for my love and concentration for me.  
I can’t translate anyhow my heart’s gratitude but this little image of it – an echo of appreciation.’

Garlanding me in a moment and putting the dust of my feet on her head
she exclaimed: ‘Lord, believe me thy maid from time immemorial, until eternity.  
My mind and body is thine.  
I am thy maid from today.’

And with an embrace she said,
‘I have dedicated myself to thee, entered deep into thy consciousness at ease.’

‘But tell me thy name, please!’  came my words spontaneously.

Rearranging the hair playing on her rosy cheeks she said,
‘Art thou still ignorant of me, O my poet-laureate?  
I am born through the very self of thine.’

Certainly that monsoon’s first month’s night became indelible in my life: became unforgettable.

- Shri Yogeshwarji