The following is the second of two love letters.
The ending verse contains the word ‘Shringara’ (rapturous intimacy). I found Shringara thumbing through some ancient Sanskrit on a rainy afternoon at the National Library of Ireland. I remembered the word then on.
It has been said Shringara Rasa is translated as ‘erotic love,’ romantic love or attraction or beauty. There are other levels used to describe love, but none can match it in its scope and variety. It is erotic love or passionate love and has been traced to the pleasure of love. The term literally means to decorate, or engage in a love talk. The playful exchanges between lovers or spouses, all evoke Shringara.
From a Buddhist perspective, all lovers must evoke Shringara.
Dear Ms. J.:
As we dined today, your eyes, lips and love smoothed the soul and nurtured my spirit. We nearly kissed, but still felt love’s power, as if we could fend off anything unforgiving. Your caress sped my heart and I trembled in awe. I sleep in you, and just maybe, you sleep in me.
My eyes hold their breath. Shall we turn back? Should we? Shall we move ahead? Should we? I fear losing this moment. Therefore, I will sketch your eyes and find you again, and again. Like always, where ever we run, there will begin. There will always be another journey. There will always be another embrace.
Tonight, we can be what God has meant us to be. Somewhere close, the warmth of your breath smolders, your aroma. Ah. Your aroma. Passion. Death. Love Rekindled. Resurrection.
Restless, I dream. Dipping my fingers unto thy heart. There is no wilderness, no mountain, no horizon that can set our sun. We shall sit, waiting for the moon. Waiting for another resurrection. Our resurrection. Come find me. And I will find you.
In vain, the moon tries to paint your face. It fails to catch your grace. Can the caress your ecstasy? Can it kiss thy fruit? Shall it feel the heat of your skin, to taste mammilla, to taste the garden? I quiver. You are a forest of love … a forest of my life.
You are my Shringara.