The Sisters of Time: Yamuna and Yamini

 

In depths of time, where legends sleep,
Two sisters, ancient secrets keep.
Yamuna, a river, pure and bright,
A flowing hymn of day's soft light.

She bore the songs of Krishna's grace,
Reflecting tears from every face.
A sacred stream, a living art,
The beating of the earthly heart.

Her sister, Yamini, veiled in shade,
The silent night, a dream displayed.
She wrapped the world in shadows deep,
While whispered promises would sweep.

Upon her banks, a bloom appeared,
The Flower of Sagittarius, revered.
To Yama, god of death's domain,
A bridge of life to ease the pain.

The night sister, with heart so bold,
Embraced the journey, ages old.
Through Yamuna's parted, flowing core,
She walked to find the final shore.

She crossed the groves of Rathideva,
A moonlit beauty, wild and free.
To Yama's gates, she held her ground,
Where silent guards made not a sound.

Before the cold and ancient king,
A gift of dreams, she chose to bring.
The god of death, in stark surprise,
Felt life's first stirrings in his eyes.

"A dream," she said, with voice so low,
"For worlds you watch, but never know."
And Yama, moved by this strange plea,
Granted a wish for her to be.

"Let darkness not be seen as end,"
Yamini prayed, her words to send.
"But as a passage, soft and deep,
Where beauty and new visions sleep."

And so she turned, her task now done,
To greet the dawn, to meet the sun.
Through Yamuna’s arms, she slipped once more,
Two sisters joined—one light, one lore.
Their song now flows in moonlit streams,
A lullaby of hopes and dreams.