In this desert
I touch the ocean within,
here where I abandon all plans,
I spend hours watching cloud formations
of flowers blooming violet, red.
I travel to the sanctuary of the soul
each morning, sit silent
at the altar of dawn.

December's child
with fire you were forged
your eyes are liquid amber poured
always I dream to kiss
your perfect lips divinely cast
the sweetness of your breath
the warmth that moves across my flesh
your hands and arms are sculpted bronze museum art
indelibly in mind when you are far
the hot of your delicious mouth
traveling gently, slowly south.

In the water, some tears erased
below the surface, they slip away
only a watery grave of what used to be
a mirage, a vision of possibility
a looking glass, this moon-green sea.

You sit in silence, on lotus
deeply meditate, in the end
recount the tale of life, simple
for a moment,in a nutshell,
the sky of your mind is clear.

But materials of millions
of light years in our tale
is beyond retrievable limits,
on that no confirmation
is needed, simple logic will
tell you that the life you live
couldn't be an isolated one
every one of the neurons
of your brain, is a star in this
thickly braided, interwoven 
 universes, that die and take birth.

Before and after simply
must be there, but, as it is
out of bounds for the senses,
limited to a time and space
we are groping in the dark.

So what now, don't you
want to go beyond --
in to the ocean where
human logic can't stand,
and end the intergalactic
expedition with light
and darkness as references.

Break the final barrier
exploring  the universe within,
decide to be the light
undiminished for ever;
embrace enlightenment
breaking the golden chain
that ties down,  desires.

Would you come with me to a lonely island?
Where we can be us.
Without remembering the civilisation?
Where we can live.
Without worries.

Would you come with me? I would be your sailor, if you can't swim.