i am like a summer storm in a dry land, bringing thunder & towering clouds & wind but no rain. there's a lot of hopeful noise in the sky but nothing much happens. where is my rain, Shiva? where is the blessing that surely must come? when does this end, this time of declaration in words, this offering to You, this small lonely prasad that few come to share? still will i offer it, for You have given me this sacred task to ripen me. this is the timely opportunity to detach from the opinions of others, to release the solemn people-pleasing child in me to go find healing in the comfort of nature's pure serene hidden places. let her walk with her sad, lonely craving, the emptiness inside calling out to be filled. let her live patiently without answers, bereft of understanding & shorn of meaning. let her suffer. & let it be enough. let it be finished, paid in full, unleashed & released. done. shelter me, Shiva, cover me over with Your holy love as i become free from this spent larval form i now inhabit while it morphs into the mature adult version: the one where i have wings & am not crawling on my belly for food. may the nectar of flowers empower me home to You, Shiva!