I look as the moon, both bright and full on the clear night
shines over the wooded landscape. The golden reflection can be seen arcing over
a calm lake. A heavy fog rolls in giving the landscape an ethereal feel. This
is the time of magic, a time where legends and myth take form and where reality
blurs into possibility.
From among the fog, shadowy shapes, swaying this way and that emerge. Girls in long skirts from a time long ago. Forlorn and pining they seem to search the endless mist covered landscape. One, with a bright and luminous hue to her skin as if kissed by the moon, sits in the grass awaiting her dark diviner.
The notes of a lone flute echo hauntingly over the scene. All at once he appears from nowhere and everywhere. Wearing a crown of peacock feathers and holding the bansuri flute from which the enchanting notes in the deep of the night sing from. He moves to stand next to his beloved Radha sitting in the grass. Krishna, his skin the dark hue of a storm cloud ready to burst with rain and wearing a yellow dhoti, he begins to play his magical song as the gopi’s begin to dance in this dreamscape. As he plays he dances with Radha, two souls merged as one. Dark and light, love and loved, earthly and heavenly they form a perfect balance.
From the darkness of the night emerge forms to match each of the gopi. Knowing the hearts of the gopi’s sweet Madhava expands himself to be with each and everyone one. They dance ecstatically to the tones of the flutes. Each couple a perfect form of love. For hours this enchanting scene lasts until the moon begins to descend below the lake and the darkness of the night envelopes the clearing. Slowly the dancing couples disappear into the mists of time and history until only that original couple stands alone in the clearing. Eventually, even they fade into the mists of the mind and I am left alone again. Left alone with the sweet memories of the raasa leela. Left alone with the sight of Radha and Krishna in their most intimate past time. I see my Keshava everywhere but this is my most savored and cherished thought.
From among the fog, shadowy shapes, swaying this way and that emerge. Girls in long skirts from a time long ago. Forlorn and pining they seem to search the endless mist covered landscape. One, with a bright and luminous hue to her skin as if kissed by the moon, sits in the grass awaiting her dark diviner.
The notes of a lone flute echo hauntingly over the scene. All at once he appears from nowhere and everywhere. Wearing a crown of peacock feathers and holding the bansuri flute from which the enchanting notes in the deep of the night sing from. He moves to stand next to his beloved Radha sitting in the grass. Krishna, his skin the dark hue of a storm cloud ready to burst with rain and wearing a yellow dhoti, he begins to play his magical song as the gopi’s begin to dance in this dreamscape. As he plays he dances with Radha, two souls merged as one. Dark and light, love and loved, earthly and heavenly they form a perfect balance.
From the darkness of the night emerge forms to match each of the gopi. Knowing the hearts of the gopi’s sweet Madhava expands himself to be with each and everyone one. They dance ecstatically to the tones of the flutes. Each couple a perfect form of love. For hours this enchanting scene lasts until the moon begins to descend below the lake and the darkness of the night envelopes the clearing. Slowly the dancing couples disappear into the mists of time and history until only that original couple stands alone in the clearing. Eventually, even they fade into the mists of the mind and I am left alone again. Left alone with the sweet memories of the raasa leela. Left alone with the sight of Radha and Krishna in their most intimate past time. I see my Keshava everywhere but this is my most savored and cherished thought.
