a bird and a plane pass overhead
the Jay heading east
the jet streaming west
their flight, miles apart
reflected in the pond
at my feet
the water stilled by the absence of children
except for the silent fish, free to create
ever-expanding circles that remind me that I am here
with open palms,
i recite the once foreign but oddly familiar words that i have accidentally memorized from years of repetition~
Karagre vasate Lakshmi
Kara-mule sthita Gauri
funny that it is the English translation that always slips from memory, leaving behind only beginning and ending fragments~
On the tips of my fingers is…
…a vision of energy in my hands.
In between there are Goddesses.
Saraswati is the one devoted to eloquence and learning,
a fine companion to evoke on this first day of school,
as I begin, again, to find the writer, within.