White Cotton Kurta Pajama

He wore white cotton kurta pajama.
Sunshine fell in love with him
like we did …
and followed him around
for the sheer delight
of dazzling across his shoulders
and down along his sleeve.
White kurta pajama
ablaze in blinding light
as he walked our way.

Just a simple man
dressed in white cotton
who was an oasis,
the kindness of a cool breeze
in the scorching desert of our world.
He was one with the River of Shabd
that rushes souls home to the Sea.
He was pure essence of Radiance
shining through the dust of our world.
He was the love in the air!

He settles down into his white wicker chair,
beneath the ancient shade tree,
his kurta pajama now bathed
in dapples of golden light and soft violet,
slow dancing in the afternoon breeze.
He gazes out at his sevadars in the field,
then glances at me, sitting nearby.

Quick! Look away!
or you will lose everything!
It’s already too late!
The brutality of too much beauty
breaks down the door to my being
and steals the only thing in me
that knows how to breathe.

Too soon!
The sun slips down
behind the ancient shade tree.
Too soon!
The simple man
dressed in white cotton
stands, then walks away,
leaving me alone
in his shadow.

Dazzling moments of bliss
dissolve into tears
flowing down …
into a lifetime
so blessed by love,
so bittersweet
with longing.