I hold on to You like the sand waits for the waves
Like the waves that toss restless for the moon
Like the moon that yearns for the advent of night
Like the night that is swallowed by the light
And the day is once again cast away
I pray to You and hear my voice echo into emptiness
Yet the sound fills my thirsty heart
Like the rain swallowed by land that is parched
Like the earth that gives back green and color
And the tree that yields the sacred flower

And you are Beloved
Unseen yet visible
Unheard yet resounding
Untouchable yet manifest


—Shaku Selvakumar, June 2013
Sacred Gift
Sacred Gift

March Moon

I saw the March moon last night
Rise up to find her place in the sky,
Brilliant, powerful
Flooding the rooms with light
And breaching the inner city
Invading the shifting terrains of sleep
Diving into the waters of the subconscious
Searching for sunken forgotten treasures

She stayed in full splendor through the night
Not inclined to leave or fade away
Lingering well past dawn
Even when the sun was clearly in sight
Turning to a softer golden hue
From her usual glistening white

Sitting in the house of scales
La Luna speaks of balance
Self illumination
What part of you have you hidden away
What part of you have you given away
What lies beneath your calm exterior
What risks are you afraid to take
Where are those demons safely stored
What clips your wings and fights your flight

I saw the Full Sap Moon last night
Calling me to forgotten places
Signaling the end of winter
Heralding the return of robins
And the emergent Spring
When the ice thaws slowly
And the earthworms appear
Telling me to befriend the mystery
Be patient with the uncertain
To face the darkness and the fear
To find some solace despite the madness
To seek the mystery behind the shadows

To transform
To reinvent
To remember when to disappear
And to reappear again

—Shaku Selvakumar March 2013

Full Moon
Full Moon

Old Friends

Old friends meet in the midst of remember whens
When the light was pure and hearts were whole
Barely bruised, soft and tender
When possibilities were boundless
Chariots awaited, dreams were daring
Wearing rose colored glasses, skipping on cloud nine
When youth feared nothing
Nothing at all

Old friends travel the years of distance
Recounting the time when children grew up
Recalling the instances when the heart shattered
Falling on the floor, a million pieces
Then bending down to pick up the fragments
And slowly piece it together again

Old friends glance at each other’s faces
At creases that have appeared
Where once was unlined skin
At the remnants of who they were
Lingering in the eyes
Touching the smile and caressing the lips
The face that was once brash, defiant
Now accepting of the winds of change

Old friends exchange bursts of information
Retelling old stories as they reinvent themselves
Toggling between past and present
Sometimes laughing at their blinkered selves
Their discussions now richer
With an adjusted view into the future
Filling every crevice in the conversation
Followed by pauses of understanding
Nodding when no word is needed
A hand reaching out during moments of silence

Old friends say goodbye
Their confessions intact
Burdens slightly lightened
Some advice exchanged
This time was a respite
But their other world breaks through
Text messages and phone calls
They stand up and hug
Promising to stay in touch
To make plans to meet soon
Life is too short they say
For friends to stay away

— Shaku Selvakumar March 2013