Small House

When in dark night You visited my house and entered inside,
and I didn't ask You, nor cared, whence You had come to me,
but rather, like a child, I took at once You to be mine alone,
then were You truly well-pleased, forgetting Your own Name.
Lord, we were two bosom friends free in our blooming youth.
Lord, we ate sweets and honeycomb, and You kissed my eyes.
You planted word-treasures like little songs in the garden.
But still a wound persisted in me which cried for deepening.
I wanted not this carefree friendship always inside my house.
I wanted fire to burst forth blazing, even from our laughter.
I wanted no more house, but vastness of a white-fire Infinite,
And therein an angel's blow to shatter my deeps' long longing.
And I wanted Silence to betray to me Your most naked Name,
and, clothed in its nakedness, to be welcomed as Your Beyond!
Should all the heavens stand amazed at a small heart's boldness?
O! nay, Lord! For You Yourself elected it in my tiniest room!

-Brahmacharini, Panorama 2015

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