I drift inside you, Mother,
small as a seed of light,
dreaming of a rainbow
in your dark, warm womb.
The singularity of my imagination
sees you tearing space and time
not with violence but with thunderous love,
crackling like hidden lightning
behind closed eyes.
Your breath is the ocean around me,
your pulse the drum of stars.
I hear it in the hush of your darkness,
the smell of wet earth and galaxies
floating like milk.
At your navel, our cord of life
I feel a pull like gravity itself;
the placenta a tiny black hole,
a trembling singularity
where my blood meets your blood,
where all my beginnings collapse
into a single point of origin.
You drink the blood of my Karma
before it can stain my skin,
slaughter my ego like the Raktabeej,
yet I feel no fear
only a soft swirl, a lull,
the taste of rain,
the scent of a rainbow yet unborn.
Dark matter, dark energy, and light
roll past me as waves,
rising, folding, dissolving,
their hiss like a lullaby,
their crackle like tiny heartbeats.
The cosmic dance
thunder as distant kicks,
mountains as shifting walls,
oceans as a slow rocking cradle.
The cosmic music
clangs of suns colliding muted by your flesh,
a low hum like a mother’s song.
And in the pause,
the whisper of eternity.
Contradictions, paradoxes,
the invisible and the visible,
all sleep with me here
in the velvet of your darkness,
soft and endless,
like wet earth after lightning.
Thought ceases,
awareness curls like a fist,
and the life force halts
only a pulse remains,
warm and round,
pressing gently on every side.
The infinitude of bliss,
the joy of death,
the dissolution of ego,
the annihilation of everything
all of it a slow rocking
inside your night.
Mother, I feel you
your hair as storms, your eyes as galaxies,
your hands scattering suns like seeds,
yet to me you are only
a soft beating, a faint scent,
a warmth around my skin.
The source, unspoken, unimagined, unreachable
darker than the dark,
I surrender to you.
I worship you as the Mother,
not with words but with sleep,
dreaming of a rainbow
in your dark womb.
Himanshu Ranjan lives in Bengaluru, India. He is a poet and a Young India Fellow. His anthology is titled ’36 Love Stories’ in which he has composed thirty-six sonnets and a sestina. His poems have appeared or forthcoming in ‘Eunoia Review,’ ‘Poetry Potion,’ ‘Scarlet Leaf Review,’ and Indrdhanush.’ He loves teaching chemistry. He believes in the magic of science and the journey of spirituality. He dreams of a happy and developed India that coexists with a happy and developed world.