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Oh, Shiva Swami, you have not so much stolen my heart, as returned it to me whole.
May I speak of this?
With barely half a glance struck down all flesh, so as to leave only faith.
Well, enough left to lie, it's true, as somehow also love.
May I tell of this?
In the long day of the quiet of night, you come small enough that I am unsuspecting, ready, though, before long, before short, I am shaken with a great force, to and fro, till only prayer and love remain.
I must this once speak of this.
So proud am I, even your messenger could not take hence, though clearly dressed in the finery of your court.
I must once speak of this.
Only master could so effortlessly turn the jewel of love in my chest. You have to know what you're doing. I can no longer say shall I take leave of my senses, or come to them. All difference turns away toward the death of union.
I pray, Lord, may i be worthy the fortitude and faith of the least of your creatures.
Except your command, I will never again speak of this..
