Akshara: Confidante

Exhausted bruised and confused.
I stopped
Enchanted disillusioned
In front of the framed photo
On the wall

To look at your divine beauty.
Compassion and something else controlled
contained
Suspended
Judgement on erring mortals

For who knows better
Than You
My confidante
How many slips there are
Between
The cup and the lip.

And how often we are swatted
At the peak of our
Proposals
Rotting in unknown files
Waiting for
Divine approval
Or disposal.

My lips curl into my mouth
In frustrated sorrow my shoulders curve and bend
To borrow a last vestige of visceral gut strength.

Lord I can't take you .
Anymore.

In suspension far above
When I need you
Idol or not
In my longing arms
Off your pedestal
Giving me a warm comforting
Hug.

My tears drained
I wipe my face and futile cheeks
Of disgrace
And you glow
With strange
Determined strength.

Infusions suffuse me
My Lord
I understand you so well now
Almost better than
You understand me.

I understand that you have faith
I can be.

See me through this one Lord
Like you always do.
Watch me get by
Like I always do.

My Lord knows the infinite probabilities of my final outcome
And he remains calm.

I agitate and prostrate
Like a dervish doll
Wanting the dice to roll in a certain way
Causing havoc in the play.

We both know
Not having
Or having it all
Is
The same difference.

We're not unhappy
with fate
Only
With ourselves.
And I'm not unhappy anymore
When you accept
That I can be.

Yes. I know
I can
Be.

Akshara