Rough Hewn

Gnarled thoughts , furrowed feelings,
Take the hearth and sprinkle cold water
cool the room, else tempers fray        
soup for the soul      
warmth in the bones      
I chew and gnaw,
snarl and eat      
who shall the mind-eater be?      
None dare approach, save the fool-hardy      
those are the indomitable, the cherished ones        
  
Ones who lie by the side of the ghats,
burning flesh risen in the air,
                                                  Some speak of brandings
Nay chides them as
how many can bear the smell of loved ones cooking limbs and parts
  
Why do I take pleasure
in the room at the end
of the hallway,    
still and silent,
when I approach,
the sound of footfalls ,
those scurrying scrapes  ,    
The open door beckons    
the curtains flying      
  
  and she awaits      
why do I like that, when did My heart sing      
and the rising flush in My cheeks
                                                    as she rises to welcome      
Who is the one and who is the One?      
Can we ever know