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Be prepared for the worst, since Every story has not happy ending
So try to dance in the sun,
Wearing wildflowers in your hair
And enjoy each movement of existence
run, fun or done near or wide
because you can do, what you please
but do not forget the reality
What is hard can be ease
Remember ! you are a slave and
Ruler of your decaying body
You are a mixture of gold and bold
Everything perishes which blooms

~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~

Like a wind that blows my sails
Or a smell that melts my mind
We drift like shells that crash in the waves as the ocean wails
The sun on my skin as a reminder,
With the warmth of a body near my side.
That electric shock given to me by the responder
Could never make my heart beat back to the pattern that hit so hard I would have to hide.
My hands in front of my face and I tell our time.
I only know a few words but I know how to call you mine.
No direct possession of that breeze I feel,
But in my skin I begin to heal.
A claim to love, a claim to see.
It's not a claim to own even though that's what the words read.
I can't own a sound or the wavelength you're on,
But how else can I learn to appreciate the love before it's gone?
The air is too strong and too free
To ever belong to a human like me.
With wings to pass my sails and carry my soul,
You could never be mine or make me whole.
There's more to be in our sky above,
The world will revolve around love.
I won't ask you to be mine.
I won't ask to be yours.
We have so much time
And have opened so many doors.
The ocean can drown me and the wind can drive me.
I love my journey, the sky behind me.
I can't make the Angel mine,
But the love of the world will be just fine.

One in the know drops a line,
there was no A B C to spell,
yet it keeps spreading.
An animated lingua
wraps round the eyeline.
All those that get wind of it
arise and keep counting.
Without a beginning or an end,
For it has no 1 or 9,
not a mark nor a sign.
Speechless, breathless me,
turn to mine, the one,
superior turned-on mind.
And it appeared true,
true to that credible nature
that identifies indeed
the 'name' of the composer!

Meanwhile, a bird of time.
A giant spell takes no time,
eases off in a blink of eye.
I start to breathe,
begin to revive, again in my
native countryside:  
some clay-bumps on the river.
I can cry, smile, now I
can shed tears.
Rhyme on the river.
What's in a river?
'Lores of time immemorial,
an open heart on the move!'

Is there anyone out there
'tapped into the running cycle of water,
following the rhyme on the river'?
One in the know drops a line,
there was no A B C to spell,
yet it keeps spreading.
An animated lingua
wraps round the eyeline.
All those that get wind of it
arise and keep counting.
Without a beginning or an end,
For it has no 1 or 9,
not a mark nor a sign.
Speechless, breathless me,
turn to mine, the one,
superior turned-on mind.
And it appeared true,
true to that credible nature
that identifies indeed
the 'name' of the composer!

Meanwhile, a bird of time.
A giant spell takes no time,
eases off in a blink of eye.
I start to breathe,
begin to revive, again in my
native countryside:  
some clay-bumps on the river.
I can cry, smile, now I
can shed tears.
Rhyme on the river.
What's in a river?
'Lores of time immemorial,
an open heart on the move!'

Is there anyone out there
'tapped into the running cycle of water,
following the rhyme on the river'?

One in the know drops a line,
there was no A B C to spell,
yet it keeps spreading.
An animated lingua
wraps round the eyeline.
All those that get wind of it
arise and keep counting.
Without a beginning or an end,
For it has no 1 or 9,
not a mark nor a sign.
Speechless, breathless me,
turn to mine, the one,
superior turned-on mind.
And it appeared true,
true to that credible nature
that identifies indeed
the 'name' of the composer!

Meanwhile, a bird of time.
A giant spell takes no time,
eases off in a blink of eye.
I start to breathe,
begin to revive, again in my
native countryside:  
some clay-bumps on the river.
I can cry, smile, now I
can shed tears.
Rhyme on the river.
What's in a river?
'Lores of time immemorial,
an open heart on the move!'

Is there anyone out there
'tapped into the running cycle of water,
following the rhyme on the river'?

Mystery man at the library
I see how your eyes smiled at me
Wondering what your story might be and
How did you end up working in a library?
My nose in a book as you pass by me
You arise my curiosity
That awakens my sensuosity

Blue jean pajamas
Dreams of the moon
Bare skin morning
Awake before the sunrise

I've developed a taste for dawn
A craving for silence
Time before time begins
A conversation with my soul
Love begins here

Senses pour in the alone
Alone is where I find myself
Rain of thoughts more powerful than the heard
Questions of the forgotten
I am forgotten

Sun fills in the cracks of yesterday
Illuminating chance
Whispers upon the wings of robins
The search continues