Monday, August 24, 2009
gopi = female cowherd
So it’s a secret, gopi girl?
You who hide among the cows
who caress her quivering flanks
in secret places where only you
do not fear to go.
Do you too cover your face in
clay, white as the milky way?
You weave light as it bends,
curves along that infinite edge,
kissing eternity’s face.
When the gopi lock eyes
stars meld, collapse in a moment
of singularity. Don’t mess with
these girls, their curls
are like steel.
Sent to protect the cow at the
centre of the universe, gift giver,
vivifier, they dance to their own tune.
It’s a sham, this flute-playing
this boy who dances and flirts,
he has no interest in skirts or skirls.
Suniti got it right, and Gertrude too,
the cow leapt the moon for you and me,
for me and you.