“Where Offering Meets the Om”
In a world where moments drift like flame,
Two spirits rose with purpose, not the same—
One, a ripple, soft and deep, serene,
The other, sunlight’s dance, alive and keen.
Pranav, the hum that underlies all sound,
The sacred Oṁ, where silence is unbound.
A soul composed, with wisdom softly spoken,
The thread of stillness, never truly broken.
Arghya, the glisten on morning’s bloom,
The joy of flowers, the laughter in the room.
An offering pure, with mischief in her grace,
She lights the world with her smiling face.
He, the note that begins the sacred song—
She, the water that carries it along.
He, the breath that whispers to the shrine—
She, the fragrance that makes the sacred shine.
Together they form what sages once saw—
The prayer and answer, devotion and law.
One is the pulse, the first cosmic call,
The other, the heart that offers it all.
Like the Oṁ and its echo in temple air,
Like hands folded gently in silent prayer—
They meet where the soul and joy converge,
A cosmic tide in timeless surge.
So bless this bond, as sky meets stream,
Where logic rests and dances with dream.
In Pranav’s hush and Arghya’s delight,
May they bloom forever in love’s soft light.
-Mani