The Painting

At night
the painter's imagination
ran amok
and
gave this picture.
 
The Ganges flowed down the sky
to make
wreaths of foam
and
hills of corals.
 
Shiva danced a laugh
and
the whole
became a cosmic laughter.
 
White clouds shrouded the mountain-peak.
 
Who dug the stream of milk through
the mountains
and
froze it for a walk?
The earth -aglow–
played the host.
The stars,
like white doves,
formed a cluster.
 
An oriole called.
 
The painter merged into the picture.
The two became one.
The one,
in the circular collage,
is the touchstone.