I saw you and could not help but celebrate - I felt in carnival:

a roaring, devotional wave, cheering and cresting across Space, smoothly

grooving a gully of sigils into God's rock, past which

the bruised sinews of Time and Matter would flow, reformed,

enchanted and balmed.

As if the whole space and span of the universe,

every atom of it,

waited only for the harmony of us; as though it could be no more

than a basin of water that only we could hold still,

brightly painted, your eyes at the bottom, my eyes above,

recognising everything.

This was the momentary, unpremeditated poise of you,

the hidden commotion before the sudden calming of your eyes,

your smile into my twisting

gut as you unshielded and looked at me,

brilliantly.

Possibility was born:

a team of mutinous, radiant dancers

bursting from beneath jeweled veils,

wrists lilting ringing feet thumping,

innumerable arms raised in bells, bound

to dance evermore

through every priceless, meticulous, abandoned clue of you.

I am as still as a sentinel as they encircle you,

wind their thieves' fingers about your holy fruit,

as they fantasize the rituals of lovers,

laughing and hushing and locked.

They are dancing a carnival of wing beats,

lonely as swallows,

ecstatic as golden pheasants,

pounding and drumming their feet for us, already

determined as water on rock.

What those imperturbable sea-eyes have wrought;

I looked into the heart of them and love as great as an atom was conceived,

everything reformed,

Radha singing.