In stillness deep, beneath moon’s gaze, A yogini sits in Love’s own blaze.
Her breath a song, her soul a flame, Each whisper chants the Sacred Name.
Bodhi seeds move, soft in her hand, No need for words to understand.
“Om Mani Padme Hum,” her breath, A prayer to life, to birth, to death.
She prays for those who’ve lost their way, For those who fight, for those who stray.
Not hers to judge, not hers to bind, Her love is vast, her gaze is kind.
No temple built of stone or clay— Her silence teaches more than say.
And as the stars above her shine, She weeps for all… as Love’s divine.