On the street
we meet
a tiny barefoot boy in blue.
He grabs my hand with his dark tiny fingers and locks my eyes
as if we were both awaiting this reunion.
For Two lifetimes.
His name is Sanjeep.
I know he wants money, candy or to take us to his father's
shop
but I pretend he's found us
because he loves us
and we have finally made it home.
We walk holding hands, across the swaying, strung bridge.
stop in the center, suspended.
he hides his cheek
from wondering cows
pressing past with nubs as horns.
Then, high above the raging jadeite blue Ganga Devi,
he
shows us
how to feed the fish.
Open your grip
Open your grip
Open your fist of stones
Let it fall
Let it all
into the Mother.