Gopi Crones Awakened

I have been

from time to time

Govinda

to women of advanced years,

or hardly advanced but feeling so;

reminding them with a glance,

a tone, a touch, a kiss –

that they are ever young

and beautiful, brimming

with the fullness of love.

Seeing themselves as homely

I see they’re merely lonely –

looking at their own reflections

using the eyes of this world as a mirror.

I tell them gently, and with conviction,

with the fragrance of that Garden

on my breath:

use me for a mirror, take my eyes

and look again.

I counter “ugly” with snugly, I counter

“Look at my face, it’s old, worn, used-up,”

with

“Not a trace, it’s mature and experienced,

and what’s more,

light is there, and power, and grace –

how erotic is this face!”

The Gopi is awakened in so many forms.

Rumi for a Tomcat

O Friend, I'd thought I had loved.

But you have shown me I had not been there.

You placed your old massive white paw on my chest at dawn,

and entered gently anew my heart.

I had not known what a cat means

until you came into my life.

Now my hand carresses your head and back,

you purr full of trust, gentle Jimmy, Jimal-uddin.

Come let us depart for the Garden of the Kitchen,

there to be fed your morning portion.

Let us arise and go there, o my Friend,

that I may afterward again feel you

settling your satisfied weight on my legs

where I lie, thinking of verses

for my cherished old boy.