Dakini

 

Many

Aren’t

Really

Yoked,

 

With,

A memory,

Nested and buried,

Glowing with grandeur,

Aptly and slowly,

Raised in their bosoms,

Inching towards every dream in the sky,

 

Oh, dear mother,

Dakini and sunlight,

Hoisted above,

Intoned by my timbre,

Arise and be hopeful,

Mighty and strong,

Boasting in pleasure,

On you this was born.