Praxis

Sakhi, tell me the meaning of love. If it is not to be as a river to the sea, what is it? I, woman, only know to be water in the three spheres–rain and fertility and oblation. And so have I drowned in myself, so have I danced in grief that they thought was abandon, so am I condemned to journey perpetually, always merging yet never merged. I know how not to be. Is there another way?