A Rainy Afternoon in Berkeley

Raindrops trickle down quivering leaves,

Splattering onto the stone slaps stepping downhill.

Intermittent trickles hum yet louder

‘til their hum alights into a thunderous roar.

The shower descends thicker,

Laying heavy the musty gray of

Winter’s first brisk bite.

A wailing Sufi,

Rhythmic hands clapping in accompaniment,

Imploring his Allah for salvation –

Hypnotic chants, rhythmic claps, longing cries

Breathing life into the still silence,

Permeating the stolid cracks and crevices,

Rekindling dormant yearnings

And setting them ablaze

With an inferno of passionate please

That his heart may be prickled by thistles

And in this sultry torment

Be awakened to ecstasy.

Hardened shells shall be shattered

To behold the young, milky, fruit within.

The wailing Sufi cries out in rapture,

A burning bosom crackling,

Hardened shells cracking at seams,

The milky nectar slithering, oozing…

Ablaze, the heart cries out in pain

Foolishly clinging to burning, shattering walls…

Grasping at nothingness it surrenders.

Tormented into submission by burning thorns

The longing heart channels the nectar

That it may flow freely through –

And quench the thirst of kindled yearnings.

– Sanjay Verma

c. November 23, 1998