Touching the Hem of Her Sari


There are those who say the body should be viewed as merely a sack of blood and bones, and that one aspiring to “enlightenment” should not touch even the hem of a woman's sari.


There are those who say,
The body should be viewed,
As merely a sack of blood and bones,
And that one aspiring to “enlightenment”
Should not touch even the hem of a woman's sari.

I can only say that
Throughout my life…

In the eyes of the Beloved,
Even in moments lost in passion's ecstasy,
I never saw simply the beauty of the woman,
I both Loved, and desired.

I saw the Mystery that she was, before her birth;
The shock in the eyes of the newborn;
The twinkling, innocent eyes of the little girl;
The eyes of the adolescent, so longing for love and approval;
The eyes of the mother, caring, gentle, compassionate;
All… awash in Love.

I saw the wrinkled face of my mother…
Heard her last breath,
And saw those beautiful eyes closing…
After Dancing, so long, in the Dream of Form.

All of these, I saw,
In the timeless moment of Love's embrace,
In the eyes of the Beloved,
Who I both Loved, and desired.

Throughout this life,
The Beloved staring back at me.
My Mother, sister, daughter, lover,
Myself.

  How could I,
  Why would I, ever,
  “Renounce”,
  The Shining Light of Satchitananda,
  There… in the Eyes of God.