The wind wraps around me
Like a lover
Pirouetting around my pubic parts
Drawing invisible fractals
As though it were an art
Speaking of things distant
And close but distant still
Like a wave on the wind
Ushering by the tale
of me and him
Wanting to, but daring not
To seek solace in his skin
Craving the feel of male ribs upon mine
Whose image I was envisioned in
So says the supple spine
Who would pine
For years on end
For a cease to the decay
That little by little
takes each breath away.
He broke my spine, my will
And I died until
I found the freedom from within
To rise again
The proverbial phoenix
Dashing plumes upon the black night
Wanting things to balance and realign
Wanting somewhere between the peak
And the Meadows down below.
Somewhere in-between
To rest, and to grow.
Watching the smoke of my fire dance
I pause, I blow
And the wind carries my breath
To the living down below.
Poems of the yantra 