To The Memory of 
A March Morning

1.
I can feel the morning air 
pregnant with hope 
white night flowers look like 
dreams that forgot 
to retreat back into their caves 
this morning feels like me. . . 
expectant with hopes of the day 
as I am of tomorrow. . . 

2.
I feel the spirit of the morning 
trying to reach out to me …
thro' the smell of its sweetly fragrant flowers 
thro' the faces of its innocent birds 
I feel like a hermit woken for a day 
that'll be satisfied with prayers. . . 
I feel like an infant newly born 
loving the feel of air in her nostrils 
I feel like I have just been placed 
within the space of this morning 
from some alien, distant, dark land 
the feel of a day beginning 
mystifies me and urges me to stay 
and I do. . . 

3.
I have been awed 
by this soft misty morning 
by you and your creation Dear God 
every leaf, every humble flower 
look like masterpieces to me 
I wish you were here 
to see the joy they bring to me 
I think you are. . . 
you are here between the distance 
of this paper and the pen 
with which I write 

4. 
love me 
like this morning has loved me 
be as sweet to my senses 
as this air laden with scents 
be as tender as the silent tremors 
of the drop of dew on this tiny flower 
be as passionate as the eastern sky 
coloring itself slowly with hues of fire 
leave me as shy and satisfied 
as the moon that's glad to return to the cloud's embrace 
after a full night of loving 

love me 
like I have loved this morning. . .  

5.
if ever you imagine me, love 
imagine me as this morning mist 
retreating softly inside the shadows of the night 
if ever you think of me, love 
think of me as this morning air 
laden with the scent of flowers and soft, wet mud 
if ever you love me, love 
love me like this spirit of morning 
that has softly made love to my senses 

6.
let beauty prevail for ever after 
in this world 
let the hearts of all be 
as pure as this breath of morning 
let all the days of our lives 
begin with a touch of your heavenly fingers. . . 

7.
God, I can feel your fingers 
softly touching my mind 
God, I can touch you 
with the fibers of my heart 
I can feel your eternal breath 
so intricately mingled with mine 
I have seen you retreating slowly away 
into the mysterious shadows of the night 
God, I have felt you 
so completely this morning. . .       

(c) Ambika Bhatt
Gwalior, MP, India
October 24, 2000

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