Time waves collide on blindfolded eyes,
And the eras, like bees, sweep at heady perfumes,
On a flowering bough, thrilling in bloom,
In palace gardens, cascading hourglass dunes.
The shying lavenders scent the vaulted routes,
Of history and splendor, pillared and true,
Classic fable, and all that she sees,
Beneath blindfolded eyes, they’ll always be.
She knew of times that were as young as she was old,
Days that blushed to daubs of patterned gold,
Kingfishers dived to sagittate pride to treasures that float,
Just beneath agitated waters, in feisty beak to hold!
And now in blindness she only feels,
Her husband’s love, for all things green,
Dritharashtra, she calls, and Sanskrit seems,
To not grasp enough of him, fondness to feel.
Dritharashtra, she calls, in blinded light,
In blinded love, inept in sight,
Husband, I give you a lifetime, she cries,
Legacies leak in tearing eyes.
A love like fire, like sacrifice;
A love like fire, like sacrifice.
