I walk barefoot on cool granite

in these inner pathways —

the windows shine light,

revealing maidens, peering

from the smooth dark walls

of the garbhagriha.


The morning light unveils

large chambers deep in rock,

held by tall fluted pillars,

diffusing sight —

the eyes settle,

and the sculptor slowly reveals

songlines that resonate nāda,

holding the fabric of time

in this sanctum —

the cathedral of hollows.


The rhythmic drip

from the dhārā pot

catches this rhythm

over the black monolith,

standing on a bed

of marigold and jasmine in a yoni.


And blue-green rays

turn to red-orange,

revealing honeycombs,

dripping from the ceiling

of his chamber in sagrada familia.


I circle my pradakshinā passage,

sit at the threshold

from where i have invited you

to walk with me —

where the carved meets

the open air in my desert.