The beloved is not a being of flesh, blood and bone.
The beloved is a hollow reed through whom the wind of God stirs my soul.
The beloved is God, is the Goddess. Through her I can get to know myself.
The beloved is a mirror with my name on it.
How could I not love?
The beloved dwells in me, in the innermost cave of my heart, in the song of my breath, in the movement of the clouds of the mind.
The eye of the beloved is like the sun; always steady in her gaze upon my true heart. The beloved shows me the way to myself.
Everywhere is the land of the beloved. All rivers flow into her. All mountains rise only to touch the hem of her dress. All stars sing her glory as they revolve.
She is the tiniest seed still waiting to sprout into time. She is the inhalation and exhalation of galaxies. She is my body in its universal dimension. She is the way the heart of the world knows itself.
And she comes to me in the form of a woman of flesh, blood and bone – your form.
Your scent and your face tell me simply that it is safe to love, that there is no reason to fear.
Your smile says that I can let go of the mind. That I can find myself in the simple gesture of morning, in the beauty of all the light ever raised from the dead.
My heart responds to your beckoning. I enter your face as a door to the unknown. I become humble and still.
Mirror-face of the creation of God in my soul, what do you hold for me in your secret depth? I bow to your invitation to enter your mystery.
You, my beloved, are the gateway into my infinite beauty.
You look at me from every eye, seeing or blind.
You touch me from inside each cell in my body.
Your heart beats in mine. Your breath holds the still cloudless sky.
Your nakedness covers the world.
Where are you not?
When am I not in your hands?
How can you ever be absent?
What can I do to give you my heart which you already possess?
I am the ocean floor under your love.
Ram Giri