To be a goddess

One summer, amidst rumours of your escape
from your pedestal in the temples of Kumaon,
I saw you high above the conifers
pale arms resting on the mount
you rode so casually
hair like skeins of wool in the wind
bending to let you pass

Even from that great distance
of time and space
your eyes glinted like opaque rivers
on a dark summer evening

and met mine
but gave no answers to questions that rose
like lengthening shadows on dusk covered mountains.