Hold me like a child,
the way a mother does;
caress me gently
as leaves by the breeze,
be that, what the rain is to earth
upon which I will be
like the strings in a Sitar
the silvery sound of which unifies all others
and dissolves in its shy tapestry,
then allow me to melt away
like snow in the sunshine
or a pinch of sugar
in your hot milk
and dwell with you
as fragrance in flowers.
