When the buds blossom,
the ignorance has its peak,
And the bliss paves its way
moving grounds of creation
up above. Defying gravity.
When the buds blossom,
When the ripple hits another,
the sound collapsed to
drop another ripple
In the still pond of life.
And how this universe has gone
outside the frames of reality-
“The wind husks into the mainsail
And takes away the dreams.”
And here I wonder the pain of missing
the view of their beautiful galaxy.
I wonder how I would understand —
“a ship that has sailed”.
Drifting within the wind
sculpting through the clouds
slowly and dispersing few,
the melody of a Robin.
Hearing her again
I lost myself while reliving
a fragment of memory
I always found delightful.
When he walked into that empty room,
he had no pictures, just a blank black page.
A plane without a wave in his mind
neither shifting, nor curving or bending.
Into that spacious box, he walked,
and then, started to travel through it.
He encountered an infinitesimal sized window
on that wooden plank and he peeked.
Suddenly all those reflections from the past
came straight at the top speed known.
He sat quietly, and hoped to understand
the point, that had started dispersing.
Ubiquitously assimilating the colors
and thoughts flowing through his mind.
Moments never occurred;
only a single picture was enough.
From some, he drifted and shifted.
With some, he curled and bended.
On some, he stepped and stopped.
To some, he absorbed and observed.
Like the tail of the raindrops, piercing
into the deepest ocean of moments.
The rays, iterated and returned to oscillate
in the untouched blank black room.
Now the empty room is filled,
with the colors that are known so far.
Now he has started to revere for reverberations
along with the uncountable other desires.
“Oh!! I am lampooned again.”
The coin of good and bad,
the endurance of pain and gain,
the power of freedom and chains.
The entertainer of senses and illusions.
I wish to feel that comforting presence,
not just to go through this life
but to go in it everywhere and here.
In this world, nothing is suffice.
Beautiful stories that darkness knows
that everything survives this light
and it heals in mysterious ways.
A tiny ember, my words,for the way back.
Stories- the reflected light from the places
at the edge where dawn begins and
slowly flocks together with the breeze.
Here, I wonder the oddity of space.
“Oh!! I wish to be lampooned again by you
my dearest friend.”