O women, where have you arisen from?
In what lofty realm, where divinity is a breath away,
Did you play the sweet peacock-melody of compassion, through your lithe ripe-reed flute?
Your moon-soft souls, are the endearing lamps, that illuminate life’s dark unforeseeable play,
And your gentle and crystal-lucent grace, sculpts the universe with its acute chisel, to be absolute.
At times, erratic fate has cruelly entwined the blinding veil of injustice, around your virtuous eyes,
But you have escaped, tearing it into irrelevant shreds and burning it in the flames of persistence.
Your forms are limitless like the ever-changing north winds, and untameable like a flock of magpies,
That drift through the mist-white foam of the morning sky, with ethereal and exquisite balance.
O women, you are the golden nectar that nurtured my youth to bloom into a bold and spirited lotus,
You are the vital drum-beat, of the world’s resilient green heart, that protects it from delusive hindrance.
Your essence and nature of existence, is too vast to expound, like the dark ocean of the universe, ceaseless,
Hence, O women, you are,
in my doting gaze,
the essential expression of divinity’s inclusive existence.