A Man

 

I live with a man 
who sings ragas and
chants hare krishna,
with lotus blossom fingers
that dance across guitar strings
and glide across my skin,
as he leans in 
to worship this body 
and soul. 

I live with a man
who wears glasses when he reads,
whose hair is too long
and wisps in the breeze
while he sits in a meadow
analyzing his dreams.
He understands the placement of planets 
in his chart and mine
and how they combine
to give birth to the greatest love
the world’s ever seen.

I live with a man
who doesn’t own a t.v.,
and greets each day alongside me,
one with the earth,
giving birth to serenity.
And I stand, stunned into silence
at the depth of his divinity.
And when I reach out
he reaches back,
further and deeper
into me 
than anyone 
ever has before.