Everyone returns to God in the way that makes their heart and their soul melt and slip at last into their Beloved's.
A lifetime of swaying to the music that conveyed the secret whisper of God... "come to me, My Beloved. You are mine... come to me."
Never alone. Someone always there when I stopped to search my heart.
Fragrance of the divine, sandalwood, gardenia, a moment to swoon, sure of loving arms to hold me up.
Darkness a velvety softness, digambara, clothed in space the raiment of My Beloved.
The sensual divine, pulls me closer, takes my breath, gives breath back, there is nothing closer.
When my emotions at last find answer, keeping pace with these sudden swirls of bliss, the dance is perfection at last.
My Lord. My Beloved. I answer: yes.