Sanskrit

We dance in the wind,

And follow the steps of the desert’s shifting sands.

The moonlight caresses our bodies,

While ancient spirits invoke our souls.

There are mystic sounds that feel the air

Keeping me in a trance,

So I forever have the feeling of being locked

Within a fabricated rhythm

Majestic it would seem,

For close we are to falling into a sea of ecstasy

That dips from our bodily pores,

And dehydrated we are

From the heat that intensifies as our lips touch.

It’s something about these Arabian nights

That calls out the animalistic lust that we have,

But I am domesticated to your ascetics.

For the enchantment of your eyes

Is that of sacred reflective glass

Acting as a mirror image

Echoing the holy Sanskrit sky.

~ Tony Paradise's Poet ~