When the incense burns…
Up rises the fragrance of the chandan-rose incense wafting through spaces, flooding and intense Dissolved in the fume is a pleasurable pang the beauty that went void that never filled-up blank By now the room is full with everything that’s you a long breath of peace fragrant, uplifting, true As the stirring strains of sitar it heals me deep and beyond for you’re there in what I am and my world is loving and fond