O the Lord of my heart,
I thirst for a glimpse of thee…
The shadows dance in her austere hut,
as Meera chants thy name in yearning.
The weeds of words are plenty here….
but not one flower,
worthy so to be blessed
in thy sweet remembrance.
Meera sings and whirls,
in the forest of holy basil….
Ecstatic, lunatic, a Radhika Reborn…..
Meera dances to thy flute.
Grace her being with red,
the hue of one eternally wed.
Give me but one glimpse of thee
and in my love, O divine one,
set thy Meera free.