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

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