True Tales

Eyes sparkling,
wells of wisdom, rich and deep,
black as Kali
loving as Krishna
compassion with no boundary
Each movement subtly rustles
folds of undulant silken rainbow
draping her slight brown body
Like a perfectly ripe apricot
skin sweet and luscious,
soft and divine.

Goddess in the kitchen
making ginger paranthas for the yogi.
Their fiery aroma inebriates the air
No apron shields the flowing sari
from spatters and spice
and there is no spot.
nimbly flipping paranthas, one by one
in the sizzling ghee
and there is no burn.
“Remember God and He will dwell
in the food you prepare,”
she gently reminds.
The corners of her mouth rise
as her lungs fill with the drunken breath.
There is only love…
and a platter of crispy tender ginger paranthas.