From one to another
Her form in constant change.
Garbs of many kinds.
Some just common and others,
One of a kind.
Art is a way to Freedom
She uses her body as the mannequin,
the mind seen jumping, on a trampoline.
From slinky black to hand spun saffron,
the desire to experience all costumes, aflame.
For her it is part of playing a game
where life pulsates, expressing varied aspects of the same.
They give her all kinds of names
from the ‘wild child‘ and ‘vagabond‘
to the ‘ramta jogi‘ or the ‘crazy dame‘.
If they are to watch closely
Nothing has ever changed!
The mind-body dance,
rejoicing one role and the other.
She quietly whispers,
“Have fun, as this will be over soon.
This play is like phases of the moon.”
“I do not wax and neither do I wane.
You watch me from the earthly angle
and the tides of material existence in a cyclical game.”
“They asked now if I was a Sanyassin,
The answer was, yes and no.
Lying in-between like the sapling between rocks, is the place in which I grow.”
Why do we need to have labels, sects or Gurus to belong to?
Why do we have to be “type A” or “type B, C, D”?
Why is it that one personality and identity must go on with a changing “me”?
Is not this wonder of life a Complete Song to live through?
If we lose a bit of fear, we know we can have a bird’s eye view!
The moon only appears to wax and wane.
In our hearts, we all know it stays Full
through every period – it is the Same.