Saraswati Ma, your airy presence of inspiration
Is so dear and familiar to me
I think we have been friends over eaons
And yet you always find ways
To surprise me with new images and words
Your sign today shook me to the core of my bones
Yes, you are right, I feel as naked as
A tree in winter without leaves
No chance to hide behind a green veil of leaves
I feel as exposed as this naked walnut tree
No protection against cold winter winds
Trembling in the bones of her trunk and boughs
And still you ask me to speak and raise my voice
Make myself heard in all this winter nakedness
As if cold winter winds of judgement didn’t exist
Saraswati Ma, grant me with your support
Maybe some mice in the rootstock
Keeping my roots warm and alive
Maybe some squirrels in my trunk’s knotholes
Keeping me connected to the eternal heartbeat
Maybe some blackbirds singing on swinging boughs
Keeping the melody of life in my memory
When giddiness threatens to overwhelm me
When frozeness seems to be the sole reality
When Mother Earth becomes an abstract concept
Hold me, Saraswati Ma, in your love
I am falling, falling, falling
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