i look into your warm dark eyes, my friend & family in Shiva, as you sing that sincere hindustani classical music. it flows out of you like clear streams & tides of pure water & light, nourishing the dry parched & neglected emotions. you bring new life to ancient words & you establish a pathway to the heart, which shivers gladly in response. i focus upon you. i gaze so deeply into your wise knowing eyes that the Self–the atman in me–touches the atman in you, & everything else just falls away, recedes into nothing. i gaze in awe at you, into you, so profoundly that i softly merge with you in a tender burst of happiness down in the heart's depth. you seem to feel it also, for you nod & smile & the joyfulness seems to roll off you like reflected sunlight. it rolls right into my heart. a sweet flow of grace happens spontaneously between our hearts. it is ageless & wordless & it underlies the smooth recurring rhythms of your song. the sound of your singing timelessly enfolds us both: you in india & me here in america. yet there is no space at all between us now. you are right here with me, directly registered in the heart, through the eyes, & through the effulgence of love. i do not belong to myself any more. i never did. clearly, destiny has claimed me now for its own mysterious purposes.