Mirabai Your fragrant devotion—charcoal fire—sandalwood incense burning— through a long winter inspires me— each moment tossed into the flame— each moment a note from the flute player—handwritten—you find strewn like flowers when the bridegroom comes—how—when sunset comes— your heart restlessly begins to hum hymns of desire—it is becoming clear—a clearing—your tent pitched—fire wood gathered—each moment kindling you offer—prasad—beloved you sing—come now
John Copley Alter is an elderly foreigner.