Found- A Beauty

1. ||Curly||

Darkest midnight expands beyond,
Stars that dance to a lonesome tune,
Opalescent crescent moon smiling,
Feathery breeze that crawls over skin,

A lingering smile,
Tearing eyes,
Toes tapping,
Shoulders swaying,

I turn behind and look at Vishnu,

And close my eyes.

Beating heart,
Breathing life.
Beckoning soul,
Bewitched mind.

I open my eyes.

Happy sob. Sad laughter.
Blissful fate. 
Melancholic melodies.

The sands of time stop pouring.
As a spring of wind, springs
Into the spring-like curls of His locks.
Krishnaveni Of Krishna that is krishna.
Dark hair of the dark one that is all attractive.

He laughs at my thoughts.
Tipping His head, exasperated.
Spilling those thick curls to a side.
The wind rustling through those locks,
Curlier than spring, softer than satin,
Scented with basil, camphor and jasmine,
Dazing the dazed beyond destined dazeness,

Those locks which first caught my attention.
His very rival, those midnight curls.
Springing like honey from molten sugar.
Warm and soothing to the touch.
Yet sweeter than both put together

They stand in every direction, 
Making me giggle, at their stubbornness,
As a naughty wind wafts into those curls,
Infamous for their coiled kinkiness.

Atleast someone understands my pain.
Ofcourse He does, for He has curly hair.

I run my fingers through those coal curls,
A maze for fingers but a salvation to heart.
A beckon for my soul and a reaping for mind.

The Moon dances with its stars,
And He dances with my heart, soul and mind.
Those locks of crimped, midnight locks,
A witness to this Love eternal.

Drops of Spring rain, cascade from the heavens,
Sliding down those corkscrew curls,
Wet with dew, scented with earth.
Grounded by love and devotion.
Unchained by blissful salvation.

Like words from a poet's quill,
And notes from a musician's bow.
The drops of rainwater soaked,
With love, drenched with devotion,
Trace their trajectory down,
Slowly down His dark face.

Breathless, they slip to the ground,
And drench the Earth with their loveliness.
Those crimped curls are breathless, as well.
Expanded by drizzling rain, wet.

A cool yet warm wind,
Dries those Eternal curls,
They shrink in their beautiful curliness,
Curlier than ever before.
Darker and more beautiful, if possible.
Making me love them even  more, if ever possible.
The drops of rain, over dry, dark locks,
Catch the dancing moonlight
And refract rainbow colours.
Like how His curls catch my love.
And reflect it into a million dazzling hues.
Raining over the universe like nectar.

I smile and close my eyes once again.

Here, beauty praises beauty.
Beauty shall forever praise His beauty,
And eternally serve His Lotus feet.