sleep, queen of the dolls
your children are lined in rows
of sapphire silk and budding flowers
dancing before a raging amber flame
stamping cherub feet to intrinsic rhythms
indian gold sparkling on their mahogany skin
reflected in ebony eyes, eyes that shine &
beckon a closer look: curiosity, dazzling
tiny, nimble hands spin artful tales
weaving legends with memories and beaming young stars
they dance to sweet-stringed sitars, sand-encrusted drums
following delicate movements of maharishis past
mimicking smoke wisps, evaporating, returning
to mother earth: she whispers in the thick night air
"i am watching you tonight"
their earthly keeper need not be afraid
of her supernal majesty, indigo and wise –
tonight you can rest your crowned head in peace,
letting sleep fall from heavy lashes
washed away an oasis of dreams, dimensions unexplored
a spiritual journey into distant, emerald isles
lightyears away from the bonfire babes,
mesmerized and waiting for the morn:
for when divinity's saffron face appears at the top of the hills,
warm and aglow,
the devadasis will be set free.
sleep, my precious queen of the dolls.
your children will dance tonight.