“Up above my head
I hear music in the air
I really do believe
I really do believe
there's a Heaven somewhere”
--Rhiannon Giddens

“Is that all there is?”
--Peggy Lee*

An old philosopher told me this:

“About heaven.
Let’s say there’s more than one.
There’s the one where souls
are lurid with perfection,
piled into bliss,
dreaming of change.

“There’s the one people search for
to fit the story they tell themselves.
I looked for it.  I watched the sky.
I found only words.  Blue sky is
a blank page.  Clouds are garish metaphors.

“Then there’s one that follows you.
Don’t look for it. You can’t find it.
It’s not a place or a path.
It dances at the edge of things
like old photos or a young face
that lives remembered in its older one,
an eternal moment always at hand
trailing like a thought balloon,
a shadow cast by nothing,
forever unfolding, never now.”

Dear Poet Friends, the 4th of July is celebrated as American
Independence Day. But for me it is a day of special significance since it is my contemporary & Texan poet friend Jon Stevens’ BIRTHDAY! We were both born in the same year 1943! Kindly join up to wish John ‘A Very Happy Birth Day’ with me! Today I dedicate an old poem of mine to John, titled - ‘’Time the Master Craftsman’’ composed way back in 2007 and posted on ‘Poenhunter.com’. Hope John and my Readers will like it! Thanks, - Raj, New Delhi.

      TIME THE MASTER CRAFTSMAN!
TIME the master craftsman first lets you grow.
For you are his ‘marble slab’ on which his work will show!
He silently chips away, his chisel makes no noise.
For he is a master of stealth, and woks with elegant poise.
We all take him for granted as time passes by.
Spring gives way to Summer, as Autumn draws nigh.

Then suddenly one day the mirror shows a face.
The wrinkles are etched all over, and spread across
your face.
With deep furrows on your forehead, even a shiny
baldness shows.
The sculptor has done his work both steady and slow!
Your eyes get set deeper, with blotches on your skin.
Your face begins to shrink, with a toothless child-like grin.
Time the master craftsman has now perfected his art.
He remains surrounded by other slabs for his chipping
work to start!
-By Raj Nandy
04 July 2016
A VERY HAPPY BIRTH DAY TO JOHN STEVENS OF TEXAS &
                  WISHING HIM BEST OF HEALTH.

I am not an author
I am a sailor
I don't do words
Dreams are my major
I am not here to submit
My friend did, I admit
With an extraordinary sight
he talks about pools of light
My friend is very active here
I want to support my dear
I  ask you to give me the chance
On his poem, have a glance

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple’s a rose,
And the pear is, and so’s
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose—
But were always a rose.

Don't write to please others
It won't be the truth anyway

Don't write to be edgy
If it means you don't even believe what you just said

Don't write to be popular
For popularity doesn't always mean quality

Don't try to write what you think someone wants to hear
Dare to be yourself