Dance of Siva

By my bed Siva dances
His left leg over his head
His hair, fire, sacred thread, anklet flying

In my bed
He and I have become a pillar
Kneeling at prayer

Difficult to separate god from supplicant
We have flowed into each other
Meanwhile the Lord has danced his own round

Making poor, rich
The ancient, young again
and night, day/cloud, rain.

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