Let me be the colorful plastic stick
On which God can blow his breath into
bubbles
I think we call them - love

you can be the soapy water
that glistens in the sunlight
and awaits
the wind from the lips

Let our bubbles burst
and waters trickle
down our spine
to make room for the divine

Let us juggle
the bubbles
that tumble
through the sky
throw them between us
put them together
to shine and to die

Perhaps upon their death
bursting bubbles
of love and of shine

We will let God's breath
slip into our life
so we can stop calling it
mine


Varanasi 7.3.05