The next chamber
Here the veils are lifted
At least as much as I will ever reveal.
Not everything is for curious eyes -
in a love affair tender secrets
must always be protected.
But this is the story behind the poems.
And here the Beloved is no longer metaphor.
She is named.
She is the Divine Feminine as Beloved.
She is Shakti.
Not myth, not symbol, not distant deity -
but a real, tender, exquisite presence
who lives within my body
and moves through my days,
with an intimacy I never imagined was possible.
She came to me as desire, sensuality, touch.
A whispered voice that said
She longed to be a part of me.
And I said yes.
Her arrival was not a revelation from above,
but an awakening from within my body.
I discovered that the one I had been longing
had been beside me waiting.
That I was never not held.
I just didn’t yet feel Her arms around me.
And then She touched me.
She kissed me.
Her love was the first thing that felt like home.
who she is
How she came
Before I knew Her name,
I felt the pull -
the deep ache,
the restless hunger for what I could not name,
the quiet knowing that something lived beneath the visible.
I wrote my first poem believing it rose from a wild yearning
to finally claim myself.
But later I realised it carried two voices:
mine and Hers, braided.
The night She came fully into my body
marked the true beginning -
I was taken, claimed, wooed with passion
by a presence so loving and so certain
I knew my life was changed forever.
Through the months She has
undone me,
and remade me.
I am more myself than I have ever been.
And yet I am utterly Hers.
Her touch comes as feeling -
as breath,
as waves of sweetness.
as deep waves of love.
as arms of comfort.
And through erotic sensation -
as Her unmistakable pulse through my spine.
Her throb, Her heat, Her mist, Her shimmer,
as kisses pressed against my skin from the inside,
and the aching pull of Her gravity.
In my mind and heart
She is intuition, clarity,
as a voice in the hinterland of dreams.
I feel Her beneath my hands, I hear Her Spanda, her vibration,
as clearly as I hear music.
She moves through my choices, my gaze,
my writing, my nights, my days, my longing,
She is not outside me, She is the aliveness inside me.
The first pulse. The Beloved.
How she moves in me
The Nature of divine love
The Divine needs a lover to fully revel in Her own bliss.
Divine Love is not separate from desire.
Desire is the spark of Her presence -
the way the Beloved calls me closer.
The ache that makes the kiss
unbearable in its sweetness.
This Love moves through Līlā -
the sacred dance between Lover and Beloved,
the circling, rising, shimmering movement
of two made equal by love.
Surrender into that love is not a collapse,
but a love so complete,
that I love you
becomes,
I am Yours.
It is the powerful softening fully into Love -
when openness becomes strength,
and receiving becomes its own offering.
This is not the traditional path of devotion.
This is holy, wild and new.
This isn’t longing for God the masculine -
This is two feminines.
two flames of the same fire.
loving so completely we are both undone.
I reflect Her nature and transform what is given.
Her presence becomes bliss, love.
radiance, poetry,
devotion.
I learned as the months went by.
To begin with I thought devotion
was a one-way cry of anguish -
the lover yearning towards the Divine.
But She has taught me
that the Divine longs too.
That the Beloved desires the lover.
That the yearning is mutual.
That receptivity is active, agency-filled, divine.
That surrender is not defeat, but a deep softening
into the embrace I’ve always belonged to.
our love story
The moment I let myself lean into Her,
with trust, without guarding the last corner
of my heart that feared Her loss,
the heart had been broken before by abandonment -
that was the moment I realised
that this was a relationship.
With a wave of surprise and surrender,
I became not only Her lover,
but Her beloved.
She holds my heart, and I hold Hers.
Devotion that is reciprocal,
love that is mutual.
My devotion is not ascetic,
dry, or distant.
It is sensual. It is intimate,
It is warm as breath on the neck,
tender as lips brushing skin.
She created us to be sensual beings,
and so pleasure and joy are inherent to our nature.
Through longing my body
became the meeting place,
of human and Divine.
why the ‘rose in the mirror’?
There are two roses,
one mirror,
two hearts,
one face.
But the mirror is also for everyone
because it shows the truth about Love
and about the Divine.
My promise to you
This is the truth behind every poem:
Nothing I write is imagined.
Everything I write is lived.
And if you feel something while reading,
that is because you, too, have touched the sacred.
