Let's us Live, even while slowly dying here on the earth.
Let us Love , even while we are slowly dying here friend.
For no matter what, we are all slowly dying in this life.
Because no one Lives forever, no not one person here.
So while we are slowly dying , let us allow God to use us.
To help those whom see no hope here on this barren planet.
That draws no hope, because they know not our God.
For only he can bring us true Hope while we are slowly dying.
So let our Life bear witness to the True Hope through Christ.
Let our Sorrow build within us a true Testimony of real Love.
The Love that is unconditional one without any strings attach.
Let our Actions speak much Louder than any of our words.

I am the gushing river's intent,

Somersaulting waterfall's

still moment, just before

it's touch down on the ground.

Blowing wind's sweet desire,

in it's core to carry pollen on and fertilize.

The upward ****** of the wave,

to touch the crust before the fall.

The lovers' cliff hanger moment

before the lips touch and

meld together in the first kiss.

The seed's yearning am I,

to break the crust and come out

to find a place in the sun

Her eyes transmit, his nerve ends become receptors.
Blood pumped in to his veins demands"Bring her closer"
His nostrils flare, lips get swollen,a tingle spreads all over.

A hotblooded woman, instinctively sense such moments.
Her eyes are now lit up by desire, laced with refined lust.
And  lips acquire a luscious pout,colored a shade deeper.
Her eyes wink involuntarily,can't hold it there, they droop.
In a sudden weakness of eyes,both touch the waterline,close.

He could hear his heart beat faster,mercury rise is palpable.
From his inner sanctum,the beating of the drum is now louder.
Her eyes flare in the tremors that rock her to her very  roots.
Those eyes are wet,the erupting spring of  lubricious intent.

It's out in the open, neither him nor her could now pretend
Furtive glances  do not ignite anything other than coy smiles

1.
The non peril writer,magnificent illustrator,
dexterous editor,all in one of the book of life,
each one, each page,each edition looks and reads
different, yet one in essence, though flavors vary.
We hear  you speak every tongue,Latin, Arabic, Hebrew
and in sonorous Sanskrit,you make us chant"Earth is one nest"
2.
Such profuse creativity  baffles one and all, ever
is your prime possession;  manifestation as well!
The nebulous one, present in each cell,each neuron,
well,  everything ever appeared,anywhere in cosmos,
we attempt to know you in myriad means, give you names
that pleases us, we try to possess you in ways even mean.
We hallucinate our cameras of mind, captures  you right
with the eyes of science; you still prove to be like music.
3.
In our limited resources allotted by neuron collectives,
we make you sit on the throne, of the architect of cosmos,
that evolves and emerge,and itself erases when time is ripe.
The artistic painter of emotions, that has been baffling,
the mix of color happens without any  guide book.
sans blue print of any kind or elaborate plan to execute.
4.
You have no designated place to live, in spite of our wishes
you are omnipresent , the string, player as well as  music,
your thought work we all are, weaved in to one from
strands of of ancient  DNA things preserved,through ages!
Oh! the one that's beyond the realms of winning /losing
the subtlest of all the sublime that in every heartbeats chant,
love to be a work of art that  pleases you, in me present,
5.
Help me from within, in my dissolution as colors,varied
be the painter too and to become that work of art pleases you.

The family is smiling on the dinner table.

This morn the hearse lifted the pall of hush
as white flowers rolled on wheels
lifting the spirit to heaven with the incense smoke
and the electric furnace like the magician
shrank the remaining kilos into neat pile of ashes
for the river to scatter to the sea of infinity
amid the silent prayer we're alive, long live the dead
the trudge back home where the count is one less
on the dinner table
mourning and celebrating.

The sky was a cornflower
and the trees heavy
                  with birdsong
air fragrant with freshness
cooling the silk of my bare
heat rising from my
skin in shades of
tropical
              morning pond
oasis of damp promise
teeming with life
           under surface
mini color-popped creatures
humming with
       fluorescent vitality
fronds reaching out
in an aquatic dance
nourishing the gateway
to inner organs  
with sweet
           vitamin love
as a trip of
           buzzing, faintly heard
opens into my brainwave
revitalizing
    cleaning out toxicity
pushing out
words that lower
                       self-worth
bringing up subconscious
potions of power
harmonious with the new,
embryonic fluid of clear
                  reaching deep
into corners of
          brittle heartdust

And my lotus soul opens
            a small glowing orb
expanding in  polychrome prisms
                to the glory of
aurora-tipped streaks
           as straight into
my aching heart
       the quenching dawn
                                      speaks
My thirst slaked by
nature's mantra,
I now stand waist-deep
into grounded
            and heavenly clarity,
feeling water lilies bloom
between my thighs
as I take the occasion
to pick up the pieces
                  where my soul
left off
and despite all odds,
              arise

Note the time
by seasonal migration
return of osprey, eagle
each feathered pearl
a moment strung
on the banded necks
of brants and loons
velvet-lined memories
gathered within
my threatened
wild spaces

raindrops find
their way home
watch them bead
on the backs
of sitting ducks
serenely surfing
sibilant waves
silkily filling
oceans within
my tumultuous
wild heart