Pilgrim

This grief is smudged on like a tilak
It rolls in my hands like japa beads
This grief makes my skin raw and fragile
Like a saint with a saint’s bleeding feet

This grief on my lips I am chanting
Hare krsna hare krsna all for him
Treading on stones that are glowing
I am hungry I am weak I am thin

On bruised knees for days and days
Relentlessly inch after inch
Away from the devil behind me
Away from his grasp on my wrists

Away from his cheek on my cheek
Breathing in where he’s still on my hands
With every part of me aching
I am a stranger walking in strange lands

Hare krsna hare krsna I love him I love him Hare
krsna hare krsna I am weak at my knees Hare
krsna hare krsna I’m a sorry situation Hare
krsna hare krsna krsna krsna hare hare

This grief is a deity that I pray to
I bathe it with honey and palms
Towards hope I am walking with strangers
I am door to door begging for alms

This grief is my own little Vrindavan
I offer it milk sweets and almond cakes
I am a stranger walking in strange lands
And every part of me aches

Every single part of me aches.