the realisation comes
that life cannot be traded,
nor weighed

it is immaculate and as fleeting as a cloud
or a drop of rain

the realisation comes,
that love can only be granted
by the grace of God

it is beyond control,
a wild rose on the moor,
unseeded, unworshipped,
ravaged by wind and yet glorious

there is nothing that compares to you,
nothing that matches the emptiness,
the far-reaching caress of your gaze,
your labyrinthine splendour

Avadhut, how do I talk about this,
this love, this fire,
these mountain tears

I have to kneel, bow down,
accept that I am lost, helpless,
in turmoil,
oblivion

I have to lay supine,
train my eyes on Andromeda
offer my heart to the sacred marriage,
arms splayed in surrender