xlix
i awake.
far from home,
i sense it.
this is unlike before…
a thread softly knitted into my sternum pulls me –
“challo” (let’s go)
i exit a building
leaving behind
white walls
and florescent lighting.
i step into a side street,
the air,
smoggy and misty –
sets the tone
of mystic arrival.
“go.”
i wander
down a rustic alley,
New Delhi ambience,
street carts, food vendors,
infusing spices and scents,
motorcycles threading through,
dangling wires from tall buildings beyond repair.
and eyes –
eyes scream their focus towards me.
i feel the intensity…
pale skin and blonde hair, what novelty to them.
it is loud in my internal systems,
i want to turn around, but i can’t.
i am being led, furiously led.
so i drape my scarf over my head,
concealing my truth
buying an extra moment’s time
before they realize
that i do not belong here.
i continue.
not questioning,
only following
the intuitive pull.
the soul knows exactly where to go.
the side street merges
into my destination.
i approach
the ruins of
Hauz Khas.
i feel,
a sense
of complete
infinite
peace.
standing outside the gate, i see an elder security guard, with a machine gun casually draped from his shoulder.
“namaskar” the elder security guard greets me.
i look at him, with shy eyes, reply, “namaskar”.
our eyes hold gaze.
mine – shy, but curiously unknowing of what to say.
his – in deep recognition, a gentle satisfaction, in my arrival.
“someone here for you Madam”, he says with twinkling eyes and a heavy Indian accent.
i nod, subtly smiling back.
i am unsure why, but this does not surprise me.
“dhanyavaad,” i thank him.
he gestures onward –
i go through the gate.
my eyes are humbled.
winter’s humid mist and grey skies gracefully caresses the Islamic medieval architecture now in shambles. hues of amber brick, sandstone, honey and clay, woven into majestic form. strong enough to persist in gentle remembrances, it’s presence boldly gripping to what is left, as if affirming, “i still exist”.
“it feels like a dream”.
i want to stay and memorize every detail, but i am being internally led.
onwards.
soft,
slow,
shy
steps.
i don’t know who i am looking for,
but suspect i will know when i see them.
with searching eyes..
i begin to pass by the animal realm of Hauz Khas..
the quirky house crow, asking for attention..
the shy parakeet, asking not to be seen, but his costume says otherwise..
the brave kite, whose presence suggests he is ruler of them all..
the thief of attention, the royal peacock, with aggressive eyes staring me down..
the humble deer who speaks to my soul, a kindred spirit of gentle grace…
they are all beautiful
and worthy of my full attention.
but i know,
they are not who i am looking for.
i carry on.
slowly, slowly,
to my fate.
a jolting stop of inner knowing.
my eyes
w i d e n
and my breath
f
a
l
l
s
short.
when i see him,
i know.
“we meet again.”
he says with black beady eyes, squinting with amusement over the look of surprise i convey.
i am speechless.
it is he –
the warning call –
of a summer soul revival –
one year ago –
on Canadian soil.
the black bird,
of dire warning.
yes.
it is him.
i am unaware of what it to come,
but i sense my internal system’s shut down.
no friction or resistance.
in every cell, only pure surrender.
with twinkling eyes,
and a deep ocean tone,
he penetrates into my soul –
“welcome to the Bardo.
i’ve been waiting for you.”
and with a gust of mystery,
he flies off into the skyline.
my eyes follow him until he is no longer,
but my imagination stays with him.
i am both haunted and at peace.
“welcome to the Bardo”..
daveyhproductions 
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