You stand on the ground
And you keep pouring water
Into a huge jug.
You talk to yourself in your sleep.
You tend to go deeper and deeper in your prayers,
You call for the best part of yourself
To be revealed.
You are a young lady
Who serves gods
In a forgotten temple.
You movements are gracious,
And two streams of water
Are like clarity and mystery.
Your life is an endless ritual.
