Wild Spirit

Oh do not touch the wildness; you will not get her;

Her wild, wild spirit hangs low over the seashore,

Like an unstring puppet braving the element;

Flying in face of humanity, baffling the earth,

She is weaker than life, stronger than death.

Sensuous ducts for seduction; lust, lust, lust

Scents of steam and mildew; ancient than world,

Wraps her formless self and makes you flush

The earth rocks and rocks; she rises slowly;

Like a snaky smoke, beyond you and all.

Sins Sins; her sins would absolve in Jesus;

Seven demons to match wits with Mary Magdalene,

She feels a miracle that sets her free,

Finds boundless ocean in the eyes of her beloved;

And within some moments annihilate years.

She is all by herself a wild lion; her gold beaten skin;
Glowing, growling, and hunting, snarl and snarl,
Feasting on the body of her prey from sub-Saharan Africa
Like Shango hurling bolts of lightning at his followers,
Blood, blood, makes her purer and enlightened. 

Shine, shine; her star flickers on and off, on and off;
Its incandescence dazzles the sky and the earth,
The glints of hot meteors fly, and she smiles, loves;
By whatever those sparks mean to her and all,
They bless her with a royal crown and a palanquin. 

Meghna Maiti